Know My Ground
by gostlcards
Summary: & i will wait, i will wait for you / In which Pinocchio stays with his father to brave the curse, and one of Emma's parents goes with her. Pretty AU; K now, may be T because of language and other stuff later :
1. I'll Kneel Down

Disclaimer: Not mine.

AN: I have so many ideas falling out of my head, it seems, i don't know how to keep track of them. I just thought of the scene a few minutes after Emma escapes, and Snow is like barely walking to the nursery, how it's taken her that long to get there (i mean, she did just have a baby guys, I hear that's quite taxing, physically lol) and I was doubtful that David would've been able to fight the guards, AND help his wife and daughter get to the nursery. Plus, I love Josh Dallas and want awkward, fluff, David/Emma goodness. Just go with it.

EDITED TO SAY: Okay, so I take back what I said before; I like the name David, and as of this update, have changed his name throughout this story to David, instead of James. If you guys would like to know why, I kinda address it a bit more in the seventh chapter, but it boils down to a) I can't stop typing David instead of James and b) James was an ass. lol. So. Hope you don't mind it. But it's happening. :)

* * *

The fall air was cool, but smelled of sweat and blood. Although it was quiet now, it had only been moments before when the shrill cry of a newborn had filled the air, accompanied only with her mother's exhausted sobs as she fell back, her husbands sweet murmurings offering her brief comfort. Freshly washed and wrapped in soft wool, the child was placed in her mother's arms, and for the moment, the tears on her face were happy ones. But only for the moment.

"At least you'll be together," She heard his voice, tearful and low, his breath warm on her cheek as he bent to kiss the squirming newborns head. "We need to get you to the wardrobe now."

"No." She shook her head violently. "I can't...I'm not...we're not going to leave you!"

"And what about Emma? And the curse?" He allowed the tears to fall from his eyes without restraint, the look of pain on his face growing more severe with ever word spoken. "I don't want you to go, but we will be lost unless she is safe. Unless you are _both_ safe."

"No! I'm not going to leave you." She shook her head more and reached for him, but he had already pushed away from her side to retrieve his sword from it's sheath near the door. He held out his hand, beckoning her to hurry near.

"Snow, you must. Now come, we must get you to the wardrobe. There is little time. The Witch's men approach quickly."

Crying harder, she picked the baby up carefully and held her close to her body. She rose from the bed slowly, her body aching in unbelievable pain from the work it had just done. From the stairwell, the faint sound of boots hitting the stone traveled to their ears.

"Snow, we must go._ Now_."

She nodded, pulling from somewhere deep in herself as she placed her bare feet on the stone floor. She had to do this, for Emma, and for everyone in the kingdom if they ever dreamed of surviving whatever terrible thing the Witch had in store for them. She made it all of two steps before her legs gave out beneath her and she sank to the floor with a soft cry of alarm, pressing Emma tighter to her chest in fear of her hitting the ground as well. David dropped his sword in panic as he rushed to her side and knelt, checking the child first before touching his wife's arm lightly as he offered her his free one.

"I'll help you. Come on, up now Snow, I know you can do this."

She nodded, setting her mind more determined than ever. Clutching the baby with one arm, she pushed up with the other off of her husband and stood still as he retrieved his weapon and started forward slowly, anxiety shadowing his features. She wasn't able to move fast at all, and it was exhausting her to just stand. Before she made it to their doorway, her legs wobbled again and she sunk to the floor.

"Charming, I can barely feel my legs. They cannot carry me, let alone the babe. The queen's men are coming," She said tearfully, shaking her head as she looked up at his face. "There's no way I can get us both there safely."

"Then I will guide your path, I'm not..."

"Charming, No!" She exclaimed, pushing the child into his arms. "You have to take her. It's the only way."

He looked at her as if it were the most impossible suggestion he had ever been offered. "I am not leaving you alone here with her!" His voice was strained as he leaned toward her, one hand on the squalling child, the other on her shoulder. "I can't, Snow. You can do this. I've seen you face trolls and witches, and you ride a horse better than I. You must go, now come on."

"You will never be able to help me and fight off Regina's men at the same time." She insisted, fresh tears escaping. The shuffling of the steps grew closer, and they could hear the soldiers yells reverberating through the halls. David' face grew tight; he knew the words she spoke were true, that it would be difficult with him alone with a sword, but he could not just let her stay there.

"Snow, I will not_ leave you_."

"You have to! It's the only chance we have." She closed her eyes tightly against the tears streaming down her face. "I love you, but you must go. You will find me, remember? You _always_ find me." She smiled at him sadly before looking down at the newborn one last time. "There is no time left. You have to take her now." She pressed a kiss to the child's head and held it for a few moments. "Make sure she knows I loved her. If there was anything I could have done, if I could've gotten her there safely, I would've come. Please let her know that."

"Snow, no." He croaked, but found himself taking the baby as she shoved her into his arms. She brought her hand to his face, caressing his jawline.

"I love you. Now go. Keep her safe." She kissed him firmly through her tears, and as she pulled back to push him away, he pulled her closer once more, kissing her again. "Charming, go!"

For the rest of his life, he would remember this moment, he knew. Her messy face, red from exhaustion and emotion, the taste of her last kiss lingering on the tips of his lips, lips which he vowed would never touch another woman's but hers. He closed his eyes and steeled with everything in his body to turn to the doorway and spirit out into the corridor. Her heart wrenching sobs echoed off of the castle's stone walls.

He had never felt such hatred for a person as he did for the Witch in that moment.

He fought through the guards valiantly, staying focused and sharp in an effort to reach the wardrobe alive. He got there mostly whole-a laceration to his shoulder, but it wouldn't quite kill him-and opened the doors of the tree, ready to climb in.

He paused and looked back towards their chambers once more. He could put Emma in the wardrobe and go back. He could hope someone would find her, that she would be safe. That she would find them, one day. That they could be a family.

But when he looked down at the child, he knew he could not. She was helpless, scarcely a half hour old and there was no telling what awaited her on the other side. Even if they did meet with her again one day, knowing they could've been with her and chose not to would be an awful burden to bear. Snow would never forgive him, he knew that for sure.

Hearing more men shouting down the hall, he quickly propped his sword in the back of the tree and climbed in into the tree trunk holding Emma tightly against his shirt. He closed the doors in front of him just in time to see the black plume of feathers peek through the doorway of the nursery before feeling the strangest sensation wash over him. There was no sound for a few moments; just the silence, and the dark.

* * *

The trunk of the giant tree exploded with the sound of dynamite, it's outside splintering and shattering from the inside out, revealing a hollow center. If anyone had been there to witness it, they would've found it inexplicable. But for now, it was only David. And Emma.

The baby was screaming, waving it's arms about with it's face scrunched up in anger at being disturbed after such a long journey, and David, now able to stop for a moment, not really even knowing what to do now, just looked at her.

She was perfect. Her pudgy arms jerked around stiffly, still getting used to being outside of the confines of his wife's womb. He wasn't sure what to do. He had little to no experience with babies-Abigail and Fredrick had only just recently had their young prince, so he had held the infant for a time before handing him back off to a maidservant who waited in the wings. He thought of Cara, the girl they had chosen for Emma. A sweet girl, and so comforting to Snow as the months passed and she grew more fretful of her stepmother's actions. He wondered what had happened to her, if she had escaped the castle before the Witch's men had laid siege to it. He hoped so.

He began to move his body, still cramped inside the center of the tree, slowly turning from side to side as he tried to soothe the child as he'd seen and heard other women do before. He cooed at her as he pushed himself out with his free hand from the trunk to a few feet down on the forest floor. As he shushed her, still moving his torso to and fro, he surveyed his surroundings.

It looked exactly as it had been.

His heart swelled. Maybe the Queen's curse had failed. Maybe this had just transported them to safety, but they would return. He pictured his wife's sweet face, wet with tears and a relieved smile. His heart clenched in his chest; yes, maybe just...

His thoughts were interrupted by the roar of something he could not place. He shrank back, the quick movement startling the newborn and caused her to squall louder than he had thought possible before. He looked toward the air, where the sound had come from, and saw a large metal looking craft above him, with wings and a tail. It was like a large bird but not, and he watched it until it flew from sight, the sound of it's engine's echoing in the distance. His stomach flipped.

This was not home.

The baby kept screaming though. He would imagine she may be hungry, or cold, or just able to sense the entire wrongness of the whole situation. He tried to bounce her a bit, shushing and whispering to her and for a moment, his chest seemed to open as her sobs abated and she yawned, blinking in the bright sun. Her eyes were open.

They shone a deep moss green. Like her mother's.

His head began to spin, and he clutched her tighter as the reality of what had happened took over. He stumbled back, tripping over branches and leaves until he was able to find a place for his free hand on a skinny trunk, and lowered himself to the ground. He didn't know how he could do this. Snow could do this. She would've known what to do when the child cried, would have known what to do now that they were lost in the middle of nowhere in a strange land. He could not raise a child, a girl child nonetheless, alone. He knew nothing but swords and sheep, farming crops and horses. What good could he be to a child in an unfamiliar world?

She had begun to shriek again with the unpleasant trip to the Earth. He knew he had to pull himself together and get to thinking straight. They were certainly in the middle of nowhere, but there had to be something-a cottage, a castle, whatever this world had-close. He would rise up from the ground and walk swiftly, he decided, but would make sure he knew this place just in case he needed to come back. For the moment though, he wanted to calm her.

For the first time, it seemed, he focused only on her, folding his knees up as he rested her against them. He swung them back and forth slowly, trying to get her to quiet, and as he pulled her blanket around her, she seemed to have tired herself out, small whimpers being all that remained. But that seemed almost worse. Because now that they were not scrunched up, hidden in rolls of red flesh and baby fat, he could see her beautiful green eyes once more.

"Don't cry, Emma," He tried to soothe her, whispering, cooing, but she still kept on intermittently increasing her wails and he felt his resolve give inside. His own fat tears fell down his cheeks. "Don't cry, my love. It will be alright. I promise, Emma," He choked on his words, drawing her closer to his body as they cried together now, two lost souls alone in a brave new world. "I'm gonna make all of this alright."

* * *

"Cece, we got a live one here."

The orderly's voice tugged her from her late night stupor, the fog in the woman's mind clearing as she shook her head and looked up with a tight smile. It was scarcely five in the morning, and she had been on the midnight shift for only this week so she wasn't quite used to it yet. Cramped in her tiny office for social services, she had volunteered for the night shifts because she knew dysfunction didn't have a 9-5 window, and by the looks of the man who stood behind the nurse, some cases were dire.

He looked exhausted, as if someone had beaten the life from him. His left arm was held in a sling with a great white bandage over his shoulder and a developing shiner seemed to be the least of his problems. His eyes were red and puffy, as if he'd been dealing with great emotional burden. She stood with a tight smile and gestured to the chair in front of her desk. He nodded politely, almost bowing before taking the seat, which she found very strange. No more so than his tight...very tight, leather riding pants under the smock they had given him once he'd received his stitches. She must have been staring because she thought she heard his tone tinged with amusement as he spoke.

"They cut my shirt from me, to...fix my shoulder." He offered. She felt her cheeks burn hot with embarrassment. He was handsome, she thought to herself. Clean cut, didn't appear to be under the influence of anything, which was always good. She took a folder from the nurse at the door and closed the door behind her as she made her way to her cluttered desk. She cleared her throat as she laid the manila down on the wood top and began to read.

There wasn't much to it. A John Doe, picked up by the side of the road...with a baby.

She lifted her gaze to him and found him staring at the floor, unmoving. She swallowed. "John..."

"David." He cut her off.

"David." She smiled at him, wanting him to know she wasn't here to be his enemy. "Dave, maybe, or just David?"

"David." He reiterated. And that was all; if he had a last name, he didn't share it. She didn't have time to ask. "Where is my daughter?"

The tone of his voice changed to one of raw desperation. She chewed her lip. The baby was being kept for observation in the NICU for the next 24 hours to make sure she was okay, but she didn't know if she should tell him quite yet. The pair had been found walking along the side of the road, the child only hours old, in chilly weather with but a blanket wrapped around her. He had been bleeding pretty badly, a few minor lacerations along with the gash on his shoulder and a mild concussion, but the most bizarre was the sword he had been clutching in his free hand. He may not have looked like he was under the influence of something, but it wasn't exactly the norm to be wield a sword for legitimate defensive purposes; mental illness was always a possibility, and he would have to be fully evaluated before he was allowed to take the girl anywhere.

And then came the business of him alone. He didn't seem to have an identity; it was as if he and the child had appeared from thin air, with no sign of a mother in sight. When asked about her, the police report stated that he had only told them that she wasn't with him, that she had given the baby to him to take care of and had vanished-his words-and that was all. He seemed a perfectly polite man right now-raggled and worse for the wear, but he didn't appear hostile. However, in this line of work, you could never be too cautious when children were involved.

"Sir, she is being looked over right now. Our neonatal specialists just want to make sure she is doing alright after her exposure so soon after her birth." She hesitated a moment before continuing. "Can you tell me anything about it? Maybe...where her mother is?"

"She's gone." He replied curtly. "Look, miss, I appreciate all the help this...place, has been, but I need to take my daughter and go. We will be fine without your assistance."

She shifted in her seat, almost wishing the nurse had stayed for supervision in case the John Doe got aggravated. "Sir, please understand. The state takes these cases very seriously. Due to the circumstances of your case-you don't have a job, or a place to live-the well being of the child is our biggest priority."

"Are you questioning my ability to provide for my daughter?" He snapped, finally looking her in the eye, his gaze narrowed.

"Sir, I'm not questioning anything, this is standard procedure-"

"I want to see my daughter, now." He stood up, stabbing the desk with his index finger as he leaned toward her. She fought the urge to reel away from his hostile gesture, willing herself to show no weakness.

"Sir, I will take you to her as soon as we get some of this sorted out, I promise you. But please, please try and calm down and sit; it will all go much easier that way."

David was smart enough to hear a warning when he heard one, and while he usually didn't take too kindly to them, he recognized how to pick his battles. This was not one he should fight, he knew. Not when, in this place, he had no authority; they had his child for the time being and it seemed likely that if they so chose, they would take her and he would never see her again-a fate he could not bear to think of. Frowning, he sunk back into his chair. Across the desk, CeCe seemed to visibly relax with a smile.

"There. Now. If we get started, we'll be up there before you know it."

That was an exaggeration. It took hours to sort the paperwork out. But David had no identity, and neither did Emma. She informed him that, until he found a stable home and occupation, that Emma would be cared for by the state, in a home that the government ran and oversaw. The woman had faltered at his fallen expression, the very true devastation on his face being unmistakable.

"Let me see, David, if I can see about a halfway house that caters to single parents. They're mostly for battered women and their children, but I know some people and if you are well behaved enough..."

He was more than emphatic in promising he would be. It was late by the time they had found a place, a small home near the hospital that happened to have an extra crib for Emma and a couch the women there were willing to let him occupy. Cece was helping him make a plan to find a job, anywhere. She peppered him with questions, asking him about schooling and other skills. Frustrated, and reluctant to give too much information, he had floundered at them.

"Did you graduate from high school?" She asked softly. He had almost growled in frustration; for the God's names, he didn't even know what that was!

"What did you do? How did you earn your education? You seem like a smart enough man."

"My mother."

"So you were home schooled?"

He shrugged softly. He wasn't really sure what she meant. Of course, he knew his letters and some numbers for sale, but his life revolved around the farm, and later, being able to inspire confidence in the men and women that served him in his and Snow's kingdom. The scrutiny of the woman's gaze caused a thin sheen of sweat to bead on his forehead, so he nodded, assuming by the leading question that that was what she was looking for. "When I wasn't working on our farm."

She seemed to brighten at that. "A farm? So...crops and stuff?"

He nodded, looking up at her more uplifting tone. "I helped with our flock, herding and shearing when it came time to gather wool. I'd also take the harvest to market. My father died when I was young. Also, the horses..."

She wrote fast as he rattled off various other labored tasks he performed, her lips quirking into a grin. She didn't like to admit it, but she sometimes grew attached to her case work, especially when the mother or father were especially earnest in wanting to provide for their children. Too many times she saw teens that weren't prepared for parenthood, or victims of substance abuse who knew themselves that they weren't the best thing for their children and had already given up. But David wanted it; he was practically begging her for it.

When they wrapped up-she told him in the morning she would take him and the baby to the home, then begin helping him look for some work-she led him up a few floors to the NICU. She offered a sympathetic smile.

"It's only for a little bit. You can't stay all night." She frowned. "But you can see her. Talk to her." She paused, hesitating as if choosing her words. "I hope you're not tricking me David. You seem to really want the best for her. And I don't usually stick my neck out for people, but you...you seem legit."

He didn't really know what any of her words meant, but he could sense her wariness and grabbed her hand. "I love my daughter. Please believe me when I say, she is my world. She is all I have now. I will not fail her. And I will not let you down."

She didn't have anything left to say. David turned, entering through glass doors and found his way to a glass incubator by the window of the nursery, a small cream wool blanket folded atop it. The infant was sleeping inside of it, a few wires hooked to her here and there; when David' eyes rested on her, his expression grew pained as if greatly concerned. Cece watched from outside as a nurse approached him with a soft smile and began to speak. He looked up at her with sad eyes as she rested her hand on the incubator, and the took his hand and led it through one of the open holes on the side. She gestured for him to touch her, to trail his finger along her chubby little arm; when his index finger met her hand, it contracted and grabbed him. Cece could see the tears spring to his eyes from where she stood.

She liked him, but she was concerned, for she could have no sense of the future, when a little girl with blonde ringlets would come to visit her in the years ahead with her proud father, a red balloon on her wrist a birthday gift for the woman who once helped them gain their footing in a strange world. For now she could only hope.

Hope, sometimes, was all one could really have.

* * *

Roger Andrews was out of answers. He sighed as he stood at his kitchen window, a cup of coffee in his hand as he tried to quell the sinking feeling in his stomach. To say the land had been under worked would be an understatement; since his arthritis had become so bad and his old farmhand had gone down to live in Boca Raton to enjoy what he referred to as the golden years of his life, the farm he and his wife Ruth lived on was in a declining state. While they tried to find someone to replace Eddie to take care of the ins and outs of everything, it seemed further and further away from possible that they would be able to.

He squinted in the sunlight, pausing in his thought. Ruth stood at the sink drying her hands, shaking her head with a sigh. They didn't want to lose the house they had paid off years ago, that was a sure thing. But the land it stood on was worth something, and the government had been hinting for years that they may just move in and claim imminent domain before long, if it continued to fall into disrepair. Plus, she had thought of Eddie down in Florida, and she thought that maybe, just maybe, he had a good idea going there...

"Honey? Are one of the boys coming home this week?" Roger's voice cut her train of thought off. She frowned; their two grown sons hadn't been home in years, and barely even called or wrote.

"Why would you even ask such a ridiculous..."

There, out in front of their home, sat a cab with a young man leaning into the front passenger side. He appeared to slip the cabbie a few bills before he waved, sending the vehicle spinning out of their driveway and down the road. When he turned, he seemed to sigh, his eyes squinting in the sunlight as he gazed up at the home.

"I...don't know who that is, dear." Ruth shook her head. Roger placed the cup down on the table and made his way to the front door and out on the porch. He eyed the stranger warily; the young man looked harmless, and seemed empty handed, but he couldn't be too careful. He called to him, closing the door behind him as he motioned for Ruth to stay back.

"Can I help you son?"

The young man forced a nervous smile. "Uh, yes. Yes sir, my name is...is David. David, some people have taken to calling me. But um...I've heard from in town that you may need some work? The man at the tavern in the middle of the square."

The old man smirked. Tavern? It was a strange choice of words, but he knew what the boy was speaking about. "Ah, you mean Alex Jones. Owns the Alehouse on Main." He shifted, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "You've come to offer your help."

"Yessir, I have." He paused, as if waiting for an answer, and although Roger couldn't really be choosy, he wasn't sure this young man would fit the type. He seemed...clean. He didn't appear to be very rough around the edges, and he didn't look as if he would be strong enough to wrangle a wild stallion or fix heavy fence posts by himself. While the land needed help, he was still very protective of it and stubborn. He had grown up with Eddie and been close friends with him, he had trusted his judgment and his word; this man didn't seem to have anything but the clothes he wore on his back. When Roger didn't speak, David rushed ahead. "I grew up on a farm, sir. We, uh, we raised sheep...some chickens. We had crops. It wasn't a large piece of land, but I helped my mother..." He licked his lips, as if trying to figure out something to say. The old man raised his hand to stop him.

"Son, it was real kind of you to stop by..."

"Sir, please." He held out his hands as well, to show the man they were the hands of a worker, callused and scarred, the hands of someone who knew what hard labor was, and what it took to survive in life. "Sir, please," He repeated, his tone desperate now. Roger stayed quiet, allowing himself to hear the young man out. "I...I have a little girl. And we have...we have nothing. It's all gone, everything, and they won't...they won't let me take care of her unless I have work,and I need...I need to take care of her. She's all I have, sir. Please, let me help you."

The older man considered himself firm, but fair. He stood silently, regarding the man with a frown as he put on a bit of a show of considering this decision. He knew it said something about someone's character when they'd stand in front of you and admit they were down low, that they were having a rough go of everything, to swallow their pride and plead for the right to build themselves up. These were the words of a desperate man, Roger could tell; he had been such a man once. He had made his decision, the mention of a little girl softening him up even more.

Of course, he couldn't let the young man know that. David needed to understand, that this was Rogers home, his life's work; he needed to understand Roger was serious, and severe, so he would take the job seriously. David needed to know exactly who was in charge.

The screen door behind him swung open and clacked loudly as it fell shut soon after; the old man closed his eyes and sighed to himself as his wife appeared on the porch, wiping her hands on her apron as she scowled at her husband from above. "Roger Andrews, quit torturing that poor young man. You," She nodded at David, who looked between her and Roger quickly with wide, uncertain eyes. "Get in here for something to eat. You have a long day ahead of you."

His eyes darted once more between the two, before Roger craned his head over to the porch to signal it was okay. David took the stairs to the landing tentatively and nodded at the woman, who smiled and took his hand. "David, is it? I'm Ruth, Roger's better half."

The young man smiled brightly, his eyes seeming to twinkle for a moment at the jest. "Ruth. That...that was my mother's name."

Ruth smiled back at him, ushering him in the home. "Ah well. She already sounds like a wonderful woman."

At the end of the day, after lugging and replanting fence posts, mucking horse stalls, and beginning repairs on a decrepit hen-house (wherein no hens actually lived because they'd escaped), David waited patiently out near the road for a cab to come and retrieve him back to the town. He had stumbled across the tavern in town by chance, a stop in a quaint town that, for all it's unfamiliar technologies, reminded him a bit of home. And he had for at least one day, found work. He had left his contact for the home he and Emma were staying in, hoping against hope he would be called again. But he supposed he'd have to wait and see.

"Young man!" Roger's gravelly voice barked out behind him. He turned in surprise; they had given him a little money, for the 10 hours of work and for cab fare, but he had expected to be on his way without much more of a word. Ruth had insisted on feeding him and sending him home with some leftovers, and he had thanked her warmly and told her that it really wasn't necessary, despite the glare she fixed on him. He had to wonder if the couple had any children; this was a woman that had once obviously taken care of someone, but there seemed no evidence of a family. He didn't think it polite to ask

He wasn't sure how to take Roger Andrews either. He seemed like a good enough man, but one who seemed to always have a skeptical eye on him, as if he were ready for David to misstep. Then, when such a stern glare seemed most formidable, he would bring out two glasses of cold lemonade that Ruth had made them. As he made his way to David now, he pulled his hand from his side and pressed 5 more twenty dollar bills into it. David gaped at it. "Sir, I can't..."

"You can, and you will. Consider it a down payment and cab fare for your drive back tomorrow. That fence ain't gonna fix itself." He winked at him. "And buy something for that little girl of yours you were telling me about. She deserves something pretty!"

"She's 3 months old, sir, I hardly think she'll notice." David replied with a smile. Roger scowled.

"So? You'll learn. Treat them like the princesses they are while you can. They grow up on you too fast." He said. David face seemed to fall for a moment at his choice of words, and his head dropped toward his hands as he brushed the wad of money with his thumb slowly, as if he wasn't really positive it really existed. "Oh, now don't go blubbering over it. You'll earn that, no worries. I'll see you tomorrow, 10 am sharp. Take a bit of time with your little one."

"Sir. Thank you." David replied earnestly, and Roger fought against the flip his chest seemed to do at the look. The young man just seemed too honest and pure, but no man could be so true; at least not in Roger's own experience. He shook his head, gesturing at the lights pulling up the drive.

"Your cab's here. I'll see you tomorrow." David nodded, reaching for the cab door as it came to a slow halt in front of him. "And David?"

"Yes sir?"

"It's not sir, anymore. Call me Roger."

* * *

Sometimes he dreamed of her.

Well, if he was completely honest, he _always_ dreamed of her. Sometimes, he dreaded sleep because of it; because when he awoke, the only thing that lay beside him was an empty place in the bed that would not hold her sweet frame in what seemed ever again.

_What is 28 years,_ he had asked, _when you have eternal love?_

It was a harrowing eternity, he now knew. He grew curious, often, if Snow had fallen at the hands of her wicked stepmother, or if the curse itself were a worse punishment than death. He didn't know which he hoped for more; mercy for his beloved, or the chance to rescue her once more.

That was a lie though as well. The ring that still stayed on his finger answered that easily enough.

Sometimes the dreams were sadly pleasant, more like memories of his time with her. Other times, they were worse, with scenarios where he came home from a long day of work on a farm to her beautiful, smiling face with Emma perched on her hip and waving at him as he made his way up the drive; a scene that would, woefully, never come to pass.

And then there were the nightmares, which usually took place in their chambers of the castle, his imagination running wild with possibilities of what her fate may have been after the wardrobe had transported he and Emma to safety. An image of Regina is a gown as dark as night, long delicate fingers with Snow's neck in a vice grip, twisting, clenching, his or Emma's name on her lips as she took one last breath. That's when he usually awoke.

Sometimes it was just her. Her in the last thing he'd seen her wearing, the white gown that she'd birthed Emma in, her expression strained and scared.

"_Find me_," She would plead. "**_There is a town.._**." She seemed to whisper, her hands reaching out to him. He would respond in kind, trying to reach her fingertips, and although it never seemed to last long, when he would awake, it would be morning.

That's how this morning found him, restless and still tired. He wasn't going out to the farm today, for it was one of his final meetings with CeCe at her office. As if on cue, a squeal from the small crib in the corner of his room drew him up and out of the bed. Emma stared up at him with wide green eyes, a near toothless smile lighting up her face as he leaned over and whispered his good morning. The sadness left from his dream ebbed away.

"I bet you, my love, are hungry."

He picked up the infant and carried her to the small kitchenette he shared with four other single mothers, resting her in a wooden high chair as he bustled to the pantry and removed a small jar of very unappetizing mashed carrots for her breakfast. He smirked; back at home, he wondered what she would've been fed. This, of course, could not be it.

Once she was content, full and cleaned up, he began to load Emma and her things into a small, worn down Ford he'd been able to afford only recently, after becoming the Andrew's full time help. It wasn't a terribly reliable car, stalling occasionally or not starting at all, but it was his-the first thing he had owned in this world.

He was forever grateful for the help he had received since he and Emma had come to this new place. As he closed the car door after strapping Emma in, he took a moment to stare up at the home they had been staying in for the past 9 months. It had been a tenuous experience at first; most of these homes were a haven for women escaping horrible situations, from addiction to abuse, and some had been less than eager to share a home with a man they did not know. But CeCe, bless her, had been able to find a place where the others had not only been welcoming but helpful; David wouldn't have been able to do any of this without them.

To leave would be difficult, but it was time. That was what today was for. He was always in constant contact with CeCe, who had become more of a friend than just someone he had to have a relationship with, so he was sure he would get the green-light to finally be on his own with his daughter.

Or, as on his own as he could be living at the the Andrew's farm. The older couple had begun to suggest the living situation a couple of months after he had begun working there, but had become more insistent after he brought Emma out one day with him. Although he had never asked, he suspected there was estrangement between them and their own children's families, and having a baby in the house seemed like something Roger and Ruth desperately wanted. As for himself, having help would be nice, and not having to drive to work would be extremely convenient. Plus, it would be nice for Emma to have other adults in her life other than just him, he knew that; she couldn't have her mother, but surrogate grandparents could be the next best thing in this situation. She deserved that.

He entered the social worker's office with the baby on his hip and her bag on his other shoulder. After the paperwork was filled out and CeCe informed him that the government would still be occasionally checking in just to make sure everything was okay, she leaned back in her chair and smiled. "I'm sure happy you didn't prove me wrong."

He laughed and smiled back. "Me too. I need to thank you, though. I wouldn't have been able to do any of this without your help."

She shook her head. "I just helped. Without your hard work, this could've ended must differently. But thanks." As he got up to leave, juggling a now active infant and a diaper bag, she opened the door for him to leave. "Don't be a stranger, David."

He nodded, smiling tightly. "I won't. Goodbye, Cece."

The door closed behind him, and she stared at it for a few quiet moments after he left. In a profession where so many cases ended in heartbreak and tears, these were the moments she lived for the most. These times, these were the reasons she did this job. It helped to be reminded of it.

In the parking lot, David finished strapping the baby in her car seat, making sure she had a hold of her noisy toy that seemed to amuse her so much before going around to the drivers side and climbing in himself. While they didn't have much at the home, what little they did had been moved the weekend before out to the old farmhouse. This would be the last time he drove to the home, and it was only to say goodbye. He checked the rear view mirror, looking at his daughter, now enraptured with her toy. He smiled.

"Are you ready, Emma? We're going to have a real home now, just us and Mr. Roger and Ms. Ruth. Are you ready for that?"

The little girl blinked up at him in the mirror, quiet for a second as if considering his words, then smiled widely and threw her hands up with a squeal of delight. "Da da da da da!"

He laughed; she had only recently begun to say a few words, but that had been first, much to his bursting hearts approval. Them against the world, he thought to himself; that's how it'd have to be, with whatever help they could get. He thanked the old Gods, and the new, whichever watched out for them, and prayed to whoever listened that they would be alright. That they would make it until it was time to go back. Time to go home.

He prayed that she would be ready.

* * *

I am not a social services expert, nor any other kind of expert really, so if I got some of the farming/social service type stuff wrong, excuse me :) Title comes from the Mumford & Sons song "I Will Wait" from their new album; if you've read anything else I've written, you'll have noticed I love them lol. This will act as the prologue (so my apologies if it seems...jumpy? trying to lay groundwork here lol), and just to prepare you and give you an idea of what's to come, the next will involve Emma grown, with flashbacks of David and her as she grows. Please leave me feedback, as knowing if people enjoy/want more is very encouraging.


	2. So Break My Step

AN: SO sorry this has taken much longer than I wanted. I rewrote a few parts, a few times, and then second guessed myself, but this is how I want it to go. I know it's still kind of mixed up, slow then fast, but I swear, I have a plan, and all of this is relevant, eventually! :) I want everyone to know how much I appreciated all the reviews I received. They're so motivating, this definitely might not be here without them, so thank you :) The stuff in italics are meant to be flashbacks, in case there's any confusion.

* * *

_"Daddy, tell me a story."_

_The little girl's bright round eye's were often too much for him to deny, despite how tired the fieldwork of the day had made him, or later on in years, the schoolwork he juggled as he helped raise her. He would find time, no matter what, to sit down beside her on her small bed, curled up with a soft bear and cream wool blanket, to tell her the stories she so longed to hear._

_Tonight would be different though. Tonight, it would change._

_He began as he usually had, with a story of a bandit on a horse and a sad, lonely young man waiting to meet the woman that would change his life. She sat rapt with attention until he got to the wedding at the end. Usually, content with how the story ended, she'd flop back against her pillow and allow him to pull her covers up to her chin and place a kiss on her head. This time, though, she frowned._

_"Did they live happily ever after?"_

_His body went cold. He chuckled haltingly, smiling at what he believed to be a 6 year old's misguided naivete. "That, my love, is a story for another night."_

_She rolled her eyes, a quirk he had noticed she had picked up as of late to illustrate just how irritated she was with him. "No! The movie said they lived happily ever after, but you don't. I want to know what happens after."_

_He didn't know which movie she meant, and he made a note in his head to look it up. He knew that fairy tales existed in this world, much like tales existed in their own, used as cautionary stories to teach children lessons, but he had admittedly never really sat down and read them. She didn't waffle though, her gaze boring holes in him. He swallowed._

_Should he lie? Should he say yes, that Snow White and Prince Charming ruled happily over their kingdom forever and ever? Or did he tell her that the Witch had interrupted the happy day, that she was not gone and that no, not quite yet did the family have the happiness they so deserved?_

_"Daddy." She whined, grabbing out for his hand. "There's no school tomorrow, I want to know."_

_He had never been one to be able to deny her anything. He could not hide the grin from his face. He led with the evil Queen confronting the court during the ceremony, he inserted a scene of pure joy when the Charming's realized they were expecting their true gift, and haltingly, finished with the story of the good Prince climbing in the wardrobe with the baby, escaping to a scary new world. He supposed, on some strange level, he wanted her to understand, even if he knew that she could not at such a young age; that at such an age, he didn't want to burden her with this task._

_She frowned. "I don't like that ending as much as the movie." She informed him with a frown._

_He laughed. "You don't, do you? Well, it's just the ending to the first part. The next part has yet to be written!" He tapped her underneath the chin and she giggled, shaking her head and making her blond curls dance. When she finished, she clutched her stuffed animal closer._

_"But won't she be sad? She's all alone." She frowned. "That's not how a princess should be."_

_His face clouded over, and it felt as if his heart had dropped into his stomach. His wife's pained screams echoed in his head once more, supposed scenes with the Witch from his nightmare's coming to the forefront of his mind. He swallowed hard, the tangy hint of bile at the back of his throat. He cleared it. "I think she would be too. But...I think you have to remember, she believes in her true love and her daughter very much. And she loved her enough, loved them both enough, to sacrifice herself so that they could be safe and save everyone one day." He grabbed his daughters hands, very serious now as he looked down at her. "If you believe anything from that story, believe just how much Snow White loved her baby."_

_Her gaze was empty as she looked up at him, and his heart clenched further as he realized she could never understand the gravity of his words. He forced a smile. "How about, you think really, really hard about it, and make up your own happy ending for the princess? I bet she would appreciate it."_

_"Really?"_

_He smiled softly. "Absolutely." He whispered, bending down to lay a kiss on her hair's crown. "Now, go to sleep. I know you'll be up early to watch your cartoons." He arose from the bed and walked to the door, first bending to turn on her nightlight on a bookshelf before shutting off the light. "Sweet dreams, baby. I love you."_

_"I love you too, daddy." She whispered back sleepily, her lashes already skimming her cheeks. He smiled at her one last time, before retiring to his own room._

_There, he closed his door and locked it. Roger and Ruth were asleep, and they wouldn't disturb him even if they weren't, but he still felt the need for precaution. From his closet, he removed a wooden box and removed a sketch pad from it. As he sat down on his bed, he began to flip through it._

_By now, he had drawn hundreds of sketches. Hands, feet, half a face, a pair of eyes...delicate lips. Sometimes he sketched her face, her body, anything he could remember, just so he would never forget; he was afraid, after so many years, his mind would fail him and that he may see her on the street one day and not know her at all._

_It was a tad bit creepy, he knew, which was why he kept it hidden. How could he explain away the beautiful woman in his pictures? Even if he did, and someone believed him, to speak of her, to tell their story and to have someone in this realm-A Land Without Magic-would be impossible. They would declare him insane, and maybe even take away Emma. He couldn't risk it._

_He let his fingers travel over the charcoal marks on the page. He focused on them as a lone tear skirted it's way down his face, forcing himself to remember her voice, her laugh, her smell. All he could think of was the Witch, the what if's, but if he could maybe just soak all of her in, then maybe he wouldn't have those nightmare's tonight. It had been five years, and now they only came occasionally but he didn't want to chance it._

_When he was through, he slipped the parchment back in it's box and slid it into it's hiding place. As he climbed into bed, and closed his eyes, willing himself to dream of something other the Witch's evil grin, he thought he could hear a voice from far away in the darkness, muffled and desperate._

**_"There is a town..."_**

"...Dad?"

David looked up sharply at the voice that pulled him from his nap, the momentum of his movement causing the recliner he lay in to rock backwards and made him claw at the arm to regain his balance. His now adult daughter grinned back at him mischievously, tying her hair up in a messy ponytail as she flopped down on the couch next to him. He playfully scowled at her.

"Trying to be the death of me, are you?"

"Something tells me it would take more than a wobbly lazy boy to take you down." She grinned at him, pulling her knees to her chest. "You packed and ready to go?"

He nodded. "I am. You seem more excited than usual. Is Elliot coming with this time?"

Her expression became stormy and she rolled her eyes. His heart seized for her. At 27, she was far from an old maid, but he wanted her to be happy, and to be in love; to maybe one day have children of her own but he worried sometimes. He worried that he, at his old age and living alone, was holding her back, keeping her from living a fulfilled life. He worried that maybe something else was looming, something that would ruin everything he'd built for them in this world.

The years had passed too quickly for David, if he were honest. The 28 year sentence had been daunting at first, to be alone with a newborn in a strange place, but now that the year seemed upon them, he grew uneasy at the possibility of it all being true. For one, Emma had grown too fast; they had had their rough patches to be sure, yet he was still reluctant to give her up to whatever lay ahead. But then, he wasn't even sure it was still real.

He had been studying the tarnished gold band on his ring finger more often lately, spinning it as he got lost in his thoughts, his mind wandering. Had that world ever truly existed? He still dreamed of it, though less often now than ever. Now, his dreams involved his family-Emma, Roger and Ruth, may they ever rest. All of the people he had grow to know and love here. He still held that fervent love for Snow inside of him, but the thought of tearing Emma from this life, from people she cared about as well and thrusting her into a possibly very dangerous other one was daunting for him.

If it even was real.

Sometimes, he wondered if it was made up, a fantasy borne of a great tragedy, a figment of his imagination due to a heartbreak too great to bear. Maybe his wife really had just left, and in his grief, the delusion was born.

But his sword was still very real. And so were the clothes, the blanket that Emma still kept. The scar on his shoulder that still ached from time to time, reminding him of the fight to the wardrobe to beat the Witch's men. No, no...it was very real. He had to keep himself aware of that, if only to keep him sharp for when the time came to return.

"...he was just so boring, you know? And I just...I mean, he was nice enough, but I just didn't feel like I should stay with him...Dad, are you even listening to me?" She sounded annoyed, her voice pulling him back to the conversation. She was speaking of Elliot, he knew, a neighboring farmer's eldest son down the road who was recently divorced and had been dating her for a few months. He was kind enough, but he was content with the life here on a small farm in a small town, and as much as he had tried to stymie it throughout the years, Emma had a wild soul; something she inherited from her mother. That, he would maintain at least.

He had made it a point, because of that spirit, to keep her engaged in her youth. When she was still a child, she had learned of far off lands across the oceans in her classes, and he decided early that they would experience it together, as much as they could. Every year, they tried to take a trip; either in the country they lived in or otherwise. His favorite, personally, had been Europe; the castles in Germany had made him ache something awful for home, especially _Neuschwanstein_, which resembled their own at home quite a bit. Emma had been taken with Europe, as any girl in their early teens were, but he knew that trip had been marred by events that took place shortly thereafter. They didn't speak much of Europe anymore.

Now, upon the eve of her 28th year, they prepared a drive up to Maine, to enjoy a week at a B & B and to do some apple picking. With it being decently late in the year, they were able to take a little more time than usual to relax and just enjoy the outdoors-horseback riding, fishing and some great hiking in the area. He had let Emma plan it, as it was for her birthday, and she had surprised him with choosing the place, but she had shrugged.

"I dunno, it just...sounds kind of remote. I could totally do remote for once."

"So you're ready to get going then?" He asked her, pulling the lever at the side of the chair and letting it drop so he could stand. She nodded and looked up at him as he moved around the living room, heading to his room and emerging with a packed bag. They made their way out of the home, the mid afternoon light warm at their backs. Their harvest had recently come to an end, so they were able to enjoy a few weeks without work and they had a farmhand who could check on things as needed. Emma was also a veterinary tech for many of the large animals in town, but as much as she would be missed, they could certainly do without. The orchards awaited them.

He drove first, and he was amazed at how quickly her eyes closed and breaths evened as they hit the road. He glanced at her often in the trip, her body curling in on itself, face pressed against the cloth belt. She'd frown a bit in her sleep, her eyelids twitching as she muttered something unintelligible before shifting once more. It made him laugh quietly; she had always been one to sleep somewhat discontentedly, although she never seemed ill-rested. Snow was the opposite; she had slept heavy and long, and granted, had been pregnant for most of his memories. The idea saddened and worried him at the same time.

What happened, if sometime soon, they came to find themselves back in the land of fairy tales? He had no idea what Rumpelstiltskin had meant by Emma breaking the curse her 28th year. Would they return home first, and then it would begin, by some magical turn of events? Either way, these past few months, he had been prepared for something that had not yet come. His sword sat in the trunk under the floor of it, tucked away in a sheath wrapped in linen in case Emma would discover it. Those were questions he didn't want to have to answer.

_It was sunny and cool on the fall day they buried Ruth in the ground, out near an oak tree on the family plot next to Roger and their daughter. For the second time only in his life, David had gotten to see their other two grown sons, both stock men from the city down state, both checking their watches as if they had somewhere better to be. Emma had sat on a white folding chair alone, a black dress down to her knees as she stared at the dirt floor, unmoving. His heart ached for her._

_She was 15 at the time. Roger had gone 5 years before, in a winter when pneumonia had claimed him. He had sat at the old man's bedside when his other sons were en route, claiming winter storms stopped them and they were doing the best they could. They had only made it after their father had slipped into a coma, and looked upon David with a strange envy that angered him. They could've been there all along, but had not; he wondered, briefly, if it had more to do with Rogers' will than with anything else, but he only thought it for a moment. Of course they would've mourned their father; why would they not have?_

_Roger had gone quickly, and relatively painlessly, with a nurse in the home to aid them. Emma had hidden behind corners and door frames, peeking in when she thought no one was watching and crying herself to sleep when she thought no one could hear. The day he died, David scooped her up and held her for awhile as she sobbed, but Ruth was still there, a pillar in the home and when David had things to tend to so Ruth wouldn't have to, the two grieved together and Emma having that female figure in her life at least had helped her so._

_But then, at 15, sometimes when a girl needs it the most, the woman was gone and David was at a loss of what to do. He started getting emails, then actual signed letters from teachers that Emma was skipping class, and not participating as she would usually do. She wasn't turning in assignments, and she was barely passing with her C minus's. She was disagreeable and sometimes mean, anti-social. They were concerned, they advised him to speak with her, to help her, but by the Gods, he didn't know how._

_He had tried, of course. He had sat her down and told her that it was okay to be sad, that it was okay to miss Ruth. That if she ever needed to talk to anyone, she had to know he would always be there to listen. And that was when it had gotten worse._

_"You've never dated." She pointed out on night at dinner, pushing her asparagus around her plate. He was halfway to the sink with an empty dish, and it stopped him in his tracks. "You've never dated, you've never even looked at another woman. It's because you're still in love with her, isn't it?"_

_Oh Gods, was this it? He had wondered, panicking. There had been moments throughout the years that Emma had brought up the subject of her mother in passing, innocent questions that bordered on becoming serious so he had changed the subject. Perhaps he should've been more candid about her mother, been more open about the impossibility of their situation without being too explicit. He did not think, in a world without magic where fairy tales were merely stories, she would have believed him; nor did he want to hinder her life and childhood with the weight of expectations adulthood would bring. And so he had stuck to the stories, told them to her as often as he could to make Snow White real to her, to hopefully make her sympathetic to the plight of the Prince and his wife. And she had been...as a child._

_He didn't tell her stories anymore, hadn't for many years. She was older now, a fan of pop music he could not understand her liking and TV shows that, although he told her not to watch them, knew she did when he wasn't around. With Ruth, she had been a happy, goofy teenager, but the melancholic mood she had been stuck in these past few weeks seemed to be about to come to a head. With his back still turned to her in the kitchen, he grabbed at a towel, wiping his hands as he turned, taking a deep breath into his lungs. When he opened his eyes, she met his from her seat at the table, glaring at him with red rimmed lids._

_How had it gotten so bad, so quick?_

_He tried to explain to her at first, reason with her. "I know losing Ruth has been hard on you..." He began, taking a seat across from her and trying to reach out a hand. She snatched her's away, crossing her arms in front of her chest._

_"This isn't about Grandma Ruth." She snapped. "You've been clinging to that woman for years. You've never even been on a date or anything."_

_"You wanted me to remarry?" He asked, his tone skeptical, and Emma scoffed, rolling her eyes. She stood abruptly, storming over to the sink and practically tossing her dish into it. "Hey, don't get violent now."_

_"You don't get it do you? It's not about another woman. You still love **her**." She said the word with a venomous bite, her eyes growing tearful. "I see you looking at your ring, I know you think of her all the time. Sometimes, you're looking into nothing and I know you're thinking of her."_

_"And why is that so wrong? Does it upset you that your mother and I loved each other..."_

_"She left us!" She snapped, her tears shining now, ready to fall. "She ran away, and she's never coming back, but you miss her, like it doesn't matter that she abandoned me!"_

_And there it was. He heart grew heavy in his chest, a lump forming in his throat; he reached his hand to steady himself on a dining room chair and Emma stared at him so accusingly. She wanted him to choose a side. After a few moments, he trusted himself to speak. "Is that what you think? That she just left?" He asked softly._

_"It's not like she fell into a magical vortex that she couldn't escape from!" She snapped. "Yes, she just left. Obviously, she just left. Obviously, she didn't love us...or maybe just me, as much as you always say she did."_

_He had to choke back a laugh from her sardonic retort at the beginning. By the time she had finished the sentence though, his heart had stopped feeling so heavy and had began to race._

**_"Make sure she knows I loved her...that if there was anything I could've done, I would've gone with her..."_**

_"Emma," He began brokenly. "That's not true."_

_Her face paled and he realized he had messed up. He had said the wrong thing, and in her mind, taken the side of the woman that had abandoned them years before, never to look back. "Emma, no..."_

_"You're just as bad as she is. Do you know where she is? Does she just not want me to know? Was she just some whore that you-"_

_"That is enough!" He roared, turning on her immediately; he had never felt such anger towards his daughter. He felt like he wanted to shake her and scream all at once, though he never would. She cowered away from him all the same, the outburst coming from a father who never yelled startling her. He forced himself to pause for a moment to collect himself, walking to the hallway's entry to calm himself down. When he felt his anger ebb, he hung his head, his back still to her. "Whether you want to believe it or not, Emma, your mother loved you very, very much. And if she could be here with you, she would be."_

_"Then why isn't she?" She asked broken, extending her arm down her side, clutching it at the elbow with her free arm. "What did I do that made her not want to try?"_

_And for all his fury, his heart was breaking again. He turned to face her, and at the sight of her tears, decided he was going to do whatever he had to in the moment to get those tears to stop. He was going to tell her the truth; she was perfectly old enough to hear it now, and he had to stop sheltering her from it, especially if it was going to lead to confrontations like these. "Do you remember...Emma, do you remember the stories I used to tell you? Of Snow White, and Prince Charming, and their baby?"_

_"And the witch?" She asked, a small smile making it's way to her face. "You haven't told me those stories in years..."_

_"You haven't wanted to hear them." He smiled back, amazed at how effortless he slid through a myriad of emotions with her. "They're true, Emma. The stories are true."_

_Emma's face contorted for a moment, as if she hadn't heard him right. "I...I don't understand..."_

_"We..." He grabbed for her hands, settling her in a dining room chair as he clenched them firmly. "We're not from here. We came through..."_

_She shot backwards almost immediately, shaking her head as she pulled her hands from his with a laugh. "You're insane. Oh my God, are you seriously...is it that bad? Was she that bad of a person that you have to make up a ridiculous...you want me to believe that you..." She scoffed out a laugh, crying again. "That my mother is Snow White. Are you crazy?"_

_"Emma, please..."_

_"I can't believe you would make up some sick, crazy fairytale...I mean, at least make it something original and not something a bunch of German's have been reading for hundred's of years!" She backed away from him, shaking her head. "I'm going to my room. I can't..."_

_"Emma..."_

_"No! Leave me alone!" She snapped. "I hate you. And I hate her, and I don't care anymore why, because the reality of it is obviously something awful if you were willing to try and make up a story to pawn it off on."_

_He stood still in the hallway well after he heard the door slam and the music blare from behind it, and basked in the feeling of knowing he had failed. He had failed Snow, and the kingdom, and most of all, Emma. He had done this all wrong; maybe he should've told her everything from the beginning, trained her and made her understand. He buried his face in his hands, and shut his eyes, trying to push it all away, then walked to his room, leaving the dirty dishes behind him untouched for another day._

"Ermergsh..." He held back a laugh as he watched his daughter shift in her seat out of the corner of his eye, wiping a hand at her mouth as she sat up blinking rapidly. "Oh god, how long have we been on the road?"

"Long enough." He sighed, pulling into the rest stop. The slowing speed of the car had stirred her awake from her two hour nap, and she welcomed the sight of old vending machines and bathrooms bathed in the dusk light.

"You want me to take over?" She asked as they emerged from the vehicle, stretching out their limbs as they walked around. He nodded, grabbing empty cans and bags of snacks from the car and taking them up near the bathrooms before walking in. Emma watched him go, deciding after being curled up so awkwardly that a bit of standing would do her good.

Her father had always puzzled her. He was the kindest man she could've ever asked to have as one, but there always seemed something beneath the surface, something reserved that he never let her, nor anyone else, see. When she thought back to her roughest years as a teenager, there had been moments-specifically one she could harken back to-that she felt something peeking through only to disappear later. She had always suspected him of lying to her about where they were truly from, who her mother was and for the longest time, it was something she just couldn't forgive him for. But things had changed after high school...after she had come home. She shook her head; it was her birthday, and it wasn't the time to think about the sad times.

Still. Sometimes, she caught him looking far off at nothing, and she wanted to shake him, to demand that he tell her the truth, that he let her help him, cause he looked so damn sad. And every time, it hurt her just a little more that he couldn't.

"You ready to go? I don't think we have much more time. We should be there around 7:30, 8." He offered, unfolding a Rand McNally his had folded in his hands. She rolled her eyes.

"Dad. We have a TomTom in the trunk, why do you insist on using those things?"

He scowled. "I don't need some disembodied woman telling me, or you where to go. Your instincts are perfectly sound, and you never know when you're going to need to understand how to read a map. What if the batteries run out?"

"If the batteries run out, it will be because the car battery has run out and if that happens, then were in bigger trouble than the GPS not working." She pointed out, climbing in and buckling her belt.

"If you insist then, bring it on up here..."

"No, no." She held up her hands mockingly. "We'll use your map. It's not like it's a difficult route. If we just stay on this road for another 100 miles, I think it's an exit or so after that. We'll be fine."

* * *

"...Use the map, you said. We'll be fine, you said."

"Actually, if I remember correctly, if was you who said we'd be fine." David pointed out to his now exasperated daughter, who's fingers gripped at the steering wheel off and on, a clear sign of agitation he knew well. They had stopped about an hour into their drive, realizing they were not anywhere they needed to be on the map. Believing they had probably just taken an exit mistakenly, David had climbed in the back of the SUV and fished out the TomTom only to find that the signal was anything but strong and it could not pinpoint their location. He had stifled a laugh at that, with Emma huffily admitting that he may have had a point earlier.

It had begun to rain, though, with trees for miles and fog rolling in. Emma squinting as the wipers worked, her frustration having an inverse affect on her patience. David kept her calm, repeating reassuring words to her throughout.

"We're going to be there for a week, Ems. If we're a day late, and we have to stop somewhere for directions, it's no big...Emma, watch out!"

A wolf in the middle of the road had appeared, it's tail resting limply between it's legs; there was something eerie about the way it didn't seem to spook or try and run away, but just stared at the incoming headlights. Emma, in a panic, slammed on her breaks, trying to stop to avoid hitting it, but the road was slick and she had not eased into it at all. The car began to fishtail wildly, and David held one arm out to brace her back against her own seat while holding another arm out to brace himself against the dash. The car spun as the heavy back end went too far to the right at one point and flew towards the side of the road, stopping with an abrupt crash, throwing him into his passenger window and Emma over the console and half into his lap. Keeping still until they realized the car had stopped and they weren't quite dead, David looked up quickly despite a pain in his head.

"Emma, are you alright? Emma?"

"I'm okay, I'm fine, what about you, are you...oh my God, Dad, your head! Your head is bleeding!"

David didn't seem to care. He had looked up after making sure she was awake and speaking, his eyes darting to the road. He looked for the animal, but it had vanished, presumably now escaped into the woods. His temper rose but he swallowed it down. He had to make sure she was okay first, and then they would figure out the rest of this mess.

"You're sure you're okay?" He asked, fishing his phone from his pocket. Now he had even less than one bar and a roaming signal; fantastic. "Piece of junk." He muttered.

"Dad, seriously, you're like, you're bleeding from the head..."

He brought a hand up to feel the wound, then flipped the blinder to check the mirror. "Oh, it's fine. It's barely a scratch. Is the first aid kit still in the back?"

They retrieved some band aids and another bag they kept with flashlights, walkie talkies and other items that may come in useful in case of an emergency. They stepped out of the car gingerly, testing their shaky limbs as their feet touched the ground. David flipped his on as Emma did the same, but turned her attention to the car. He immediately looked up to see what they had hit.

"Welcome to Storybrooke."

He scoffed out a laugh. He knew the northeast was reknowned for some interesting names, and this was no different, the sound of it conjuring images of a vintae hideaway much like the town that had been featured in some movie Emma had loved as a girl; Pleasantville, if he were remembering correctly. He stared at the sign though, something about it intriguing to him enough. There didn't seem to be anything in sight, although he doubted it would be little more than a mile before they began to find some sign of civilization. He walked over to where Emma was crouched by the wheel. The frown on her face wasn't a good sign.

"Bad?"

She clicked her tongue. "I think the impact might have done something to the suspension, but I won't be sure til we get it looked at. Hopefully someone in this town can do it, but we're probably going to need a tow. Does your cell have a signal? Mine's roaming like crazy and has one bar."

"Same." He shrugged, standing up with her as she turned toward the road ahead, shining her light as much as she could. "You want to try to walk into town and see if anyone can help?"

"Do we really have a choice?" She asked with a grin. He smirked back at her smart mouth, walking to the passenger side to gather their bag of supplies to toss over his shoulder. He had a bandaid on his head that had stopped the bleeding for now, but he was starting to feel a bit woozy; if anything, it was probably only a concussion and he knew what to do for that. He wouldn't say anything to her though.

They began to trudge along, making sure to lock the doors and leave a note with their numbers in case anyone found the car before they could make it back. They hoped that maybe someone would eventually drive by and be able to give them a lift, as they did not truly know how far they had to go. David had removed the walkie though long before, setting it at a frequency most police used. Within about a half mile of their trudge, the signal crackled.

"Hello?" David spoke into it. "Hello, is someone there?"

The voice that answered back was hesitant, and slow, as if almost disbelieving there was someone contacting them. "Eh...this is the Sheriff of Storybrooke. Is there eh...is there something I can do you for you sir?"

David' heart swelled at the sight of Emma smiling. He laughed. "Yes, oh yes, you can. We...we've had some car trouble. There was...well, we'll show you, but we're stuck out on the main stretch into town. Is there anyway you might be able to send someone out to help us? We're out near the town's sign."

There seemed to be a few seconds of silence, so quiet that David worried that he may not have heard the message at all. As he began to speak once more, the man's voice cut him off. "Give me 20 minutes, I'll be right there."

"Excellent, thank you sir. Thank you! We'll...we'll be near the car."

He scowled as they turned, wishing the walkie would've picked up the frequency before walking halfway into town. Emma, for her part, stayed chipper and sweet, trying to offer her father short anecdotes and funny stories of friends to pass the short amount of time to get back to the car. She could tell he wasn't in a terribly good mood, and that he felt bad this had seemingly gone downhill so fast, but it didn't bother her. To be honest, with them being okay, it was kind of fun to end up in a situation where they didn't know the outcome. It was...kind of exciting.

"Well, some Happy Birthday huh?" He muttered, leaning against the side of the beaten vehicle, his shoe propped up on the wheel. She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around him tightly and hugging him, and he responded in kind, planting a kiss on the top of her head. She didn't often do that so much anymore now that she was grown, but he liked the hugs. She laughed at his words.

"Hey, I still have like another...four and a half hours. Don't age me prematurely here."

"Oh, yes, because you are so old."

She looked up at him through her lashes, blonde curls damp under her hat with a smile that made the apple of her cheeks stand out and for not the first time, his wife's face came to mind; they looked so much alike. Now, as she jested about her age, he thought back to the once tiny infant with once green eyes, starring up at him from a wool blanket in a scary new place; them against the world, just like now. Just like it had always been, and he wondered, it would always be.

They pulled apart as the headlights of a police cruiser pulled close. They could see the rain dropping in front of them as the Sheriff pulled the car off to the side of the road and put the car in park, opening the drivers side door for a moment before slowly emerging, a MAGLITE shining in one hand, hiding the man except for the faint outline of his figure. David could see the man's hand at his holster, and he felt the hair on his neck prickle. He moved himself to stand in front of Emma, suddenly very nervous. The man had sounded hesitant and unsure of the situation, and even now still, jumpy. He didn't know if he could fully trust him.

"Aye, are you the man who was on my frequency?" He called out in the darkness, settling about 25 feet away, the flashlight still shining in the night.

"Yes, I am. My daughter and I were just trying to find our way to Augusta for the week, but it seems we got a bit off course."

The man made a horse like noise. "I'll say; you're way past Augusta. That's quite southwest of us."

David could tell from his tone he was grinning a bit, but that wasn't what had begun to bother him. No, there was something else about this man, besides his suspicions and his suddenly annoyingly lighthearted, maybe flirtatious tone-he must've seen Emma behind him. It was his voice that made his arms goosepimple. There seemed the hint of an accent he couldn't place, a brough that seemed so familiar yet so far away.

"You have any weapons on 'ye?"

"No, sir, we don't." Emma piped in, holding up her arms. David followed suit, stepping tentatively away from her, but only enough so the Sheriff could see it was only them and no one else, no weapons to speak of.

That seemed to satisfy the Sheriff. He could hear him laugh softly, letting the flashlight drop a bit as he started closer. "Sorry about that," He began. "We don't get too many strangers...well, we don't get any, actually, around here. Just a bit wary is all. Sorry you're having trouble though, i'll phone Mr. Tillman at the garage and get him out here in a jiffy to take it back to Marco's, but you're gonna want to stay the night. We have a B & B to die for."

The man was handsome, and his voice sounded like something you wanted to curl up into and take a nap with, Emma observed. His leather jacket had the collar turned up against the rain, and the scruff on his face seemed well groomed. She smiled, standing straighter and walking to him to hold out her hand in greeting. "Emma Shepherd. And this is my father, David. Pleased to meet you."

"Sheriff Graham," He nodded, taking her hand; he nodded at the older man, who didn't offer a greeting at all, but seemed to be staring so intensely that the Sheriff shifted uncomfortably. "It's...um...nice to meet you too, sir."

David didn't offer the same courtesy, because he was frozen in place. The voice had been familiar for good reason-because he had heard it before, long before Emma had even been a thought in his mind. This was not just a Sheriff.

This was a Huntsman.


	3. Now I'll Be Bold, As Well As Strong

A little shorter than usual, but it's more of a bridging chapter...yeah, i hate those too ;) but there will be more soon, promises!

I'd like to apologize for the wait. I have some of the next two chapters written, but i'm a contractor and right now, with the fiscal year ending, it's been...tumultuous. Stressful. And I've been distracted and I wasn't crazy about this chapter so I rewrote most of it. But now. Here you go :)

* * *

_She couldn't stay here any longer._

_Emma Shepard heard the knock on her bedroom door but didn't move to answer it. Her music played loudly over the speakers on her desk, and she barely looked up as her father pushed the door open. He strode to the stereo and turned it off, receiving a silent glare in return._

_"It's time for dinner." He reported, the implied direction for her to come down and eat with him hanging in the air. She picked at her nails._

_"I'm not hungry."_

_He sighed, his hands finding his hips. "Emma, I'm not doing this tonight. It's been a really, really long day with the harvest, and I know you haven't eaten all day. You have homework to finish, I know you do, so just cut the attitude and get downstairs. Please."_

_She glared at him from her spot on the bed, but pushed herself up and roughly past him. He closed his eyes with a sigh. Ever since the blowout months before, their relationship had seemed tenuous and strained. Some days were better than others, but her schoolwork was still suffering and she was sneaking out more often with the passing weeks, though he had been able to catch her more nights than not. He could not understand what he was doing wrong, but it seemed like every time he tried to make it better, to talk to her about it or do something with her like they used to, it only served to distance her from him ever the more._

_They ate in mostly silence, with David asking her questions about school and friends, only to be answered in a monosyllabic nature, her head bent toward the plate as she mostly picked at her dinner. When they finished, she helped him clear the table and began doing the dishes without being asked. He watched her quietly from the table; her being helpful should have been something to see as hopeful, but her shoulders were stiff and cold._

_"I don't know what else to do, Em." He offered with a sigh._

_She stopped, wiping her hands on a towel as she turned. "I just want you to tell me the truth."_

_He felt overly scrutinized as she stood, her arms crossed over her chest as she gave him a chance. He sighed loudly. "Emma, I've told you the truth, and you didn't believe me."_

_She scoffed, throwing the towel down and storming out of the kitchen toward her room. The slam of her door was his answer. He rose from his chair to finish the dishes himself._

_It wasn't even that she didn't love him, because she did. And she knew he loved her, loved her more than anything on this farm, that he did this for her. And she knew she was being selfish, but he wouldn't be honest with her. He had lied, and evaded her questions. She wanted to know why; why she and her father had been thrown away, why she wasn't good enough, and she didn't want to wait any longer._

_Since their big, catalytic fight, David had slept with the door to his room open as Emma's night time activities became more and more frequent. She knew this, of course, knew how to slide by silently, and because of it, hidden a bag outside the home in the bushes she would take with her. she told herself he wouldn't worry; that she wouldn't be gone long, no more than a month, and she wouldn't miss much school. She smiled to herself at that; she wouldn't miss school, at all._

_She crept out well past midnight, grabbing the bag from it's hiding place and jogging to the end of the dirt road to the main highway. There sat an old truck with three others inside-two friends from school that were truants like herself, neither of whom David approved of, and one a stranger that only her friends knew. When Emma had first proposed the idea of running away for a bit, Anna, the girl on the middle console, had thrown her arms around her and squealed, insisting on a road trip. It had grown from there._

_The stranger didn't look at her as she climbed in the back cab, throwing her back across the seat as she scooted over. Hesitantly, she looked back to the farmhouse, her nerves getting the best of her. She'd left a note-and only a note-telling him she was safe and with friends, and she'd be home soon, to not look for her. That she had something she had to do. She knew he wouldn't listen to any of it, but she hoped by the time he came across it, they'd be outside of Boston by then._

_"Having second thoughts?" Anna asked softly, the way she seemed to recoil against the backseat concerning her . Emma shook her head, forcing a smile as she nodded and swallowed whatever doubts she may have had down. When she spoke, it was with false bravado._

_"Of course not, let's go! I want to be long gone when he get's up." She buckled in and settled back, the car peeling off slowly and kicking up dust behind them. "And who's this?"_

_He looked older, like early twenties at the most. He had scruffy brown hair on his chin, and brown curls that were cut short on his head. Anna grinned back at her friend; she knew she had a type. He looked back at her with an apathetic expression at first, but as he held her gaze for about a second, he smiled softly and nodded before turning around. She felt her neck grow warm. "I'm Bae. Nice to meet you, Emma."_

* * *

It would've been funny to Emma, really, if her father didn't look so goddamned terrified.

The ride in the police car wasn't turning out to be a long one, but she wasn't as focused on the route as one in a strange new town usually would be. Instead, her gaze kept returning to her father, pressed up against the side of the door like a trapped animal, the expression on his face one that seemed to struggle to maintain passivity. Even the Sheriff seemed to realize something was wrong; she could see from the concern in his eyes as they flickered back in the rear view mirror ever few moments.

The streets were empty as they passed through them, something Emma found strange on Friday night. A boarded up clock tower that appeared broken arose on their right, the time on the face incorrect. The was a diner that seemed to have some people in it, and that is where they turned at the intersection, a large Victorian inspired home looming in front of them. The police car pulled up in front of it and stopped on the road, and the Sheriff climbed out to help, the keys still in the ignition.

David followed suit quickly, surveying his surroundings as if it were a battlefield, his gaze calculating and cautious. The sheriff went to the trunk with Emma to retrieve their bags, his eyes on the man. "Is he alright?"

Emma sighed. "This...isn't like him. He may have hit his head harder than I thought, I don't know. I may need to get him to the hospital later after we get settled..." She stepped back as he closed the trunk, heaving her overnight bag on her shoulder and taking another pack by the handle. She offered a smile as he straightened up in front of her, grabbing her father's bag for her. "Thank you again, for all your help. It's been such a crazy night..."

"No thanks needed." He replied with a nod, heading towards the inn. David followed behind them a few paces, walking backward hesitantly with a hand ever so raised, as if something sinister would jump out at any moment. Emma knew she was going to have to have a talk with him, but right now, all she wanted was a bed and a shower. She'd touch on it before they went to sleep.

The sheriff left her bags in the empty lobby with a nod of his head and pursed smile, telling her that if she or her father needed anything, or a ride anywhere, to give him a call and he'd give them a lift. She had smiled and thanked him.

"Sheriff and a full service cabbie? They sure keep you busy around here." She remarked slyly.

He winked back at her. "Only for special exceptions."

He turned and left with a smile; she really hoped he couldn't see her blushing.

David seemed oblivious to the whole exchange, hands on his hips as he looked around the lobby. He strode to the front desk, ringing the bell next to an open registrar before turning back to Emma. His jacket was pushed behind his arms, causing it to flare out behind him.

"What is wrong with you?" Emma whispered, walking over to him.

"I don't know what you mean." He replied, speaking for the first time since the Sheriff had picked them up. "I'm fine. I just want to get settled in."

"Liar! You had the same look on your face that whole ride that Baxter used to get when he had his annual at the vet." She crossed her arms with a scoff, settling her weight back on her left leg. "You're freaking out about something."

"Emma, I told you, I am..."

"Can I help you?"

Emma smiled at the girl who had appeared behind the counter; she returned it halfway, and looked somewhat apathetic as she rested her hands in front of her. David didn't move to turn, so Emma shot him a strange glance, and stepped around him, approaching the desk. "Yes, thanks...Ruby?"

The girl nodded. "You needed a room, I'd assume."

"Uh, two, if you had them available. Next to each other?"

"We're totally free." The girl replied with a smile, bending toward the ledger.

David turned slowly. He knew she wouldn't recognize him, based solely on the experience with the Huntsman, but somehow that made it all the worse. Red had been Snow's best friend back home and to have her look upon him as if he were a stranger would pain him greatly. He didn't know how to keep his reaction under control, along with everything racing through his mind right now. He was home; or, rather, a twisted version of home in this realm. If he was back, if Red and the Huntsman were here, there were bound to be others.

Including Snow.

He pushed the thought from his mind. This needed to be about Emma right now; she was supposed to break this curse, and if she was to do that, he needed to keep her safe. The Witch was sure to be around as well, and as a direct threat to whatever she had going on in this town, Emma would be in the most danger. As much as his entire being screamed about leaving the inn at that moment and searching the town for his beloved, they needed to settle in and gather their bearings. He stood just behind Emma now, offering a shaky smile to Red, who looked up at him from painted lashes and winked.

"Name?"

"Shepherd." He offered, fishing out a credit card from his back pocket and handing it over. "David, and this is my daughter, Emma."

"Emma? What a lovely name."

The voice came from an unexpected addition to the room, causing Red's eyes to shoot open wide with fear. "Gran..." She called toward the back. "Mr. Gold is here for the rent."

David turned with his daughter, his hands suddenly on her shoulders, fingers firm enough on her skin to leave red prints. She shot him a strange look over her shoulder, curious at his guarded expression and furrowed eyebrows. In front of them near the entrance stood a man with a cane, a strange smile on his face. He nodded at the two.

"Um, thanks." Emma replied, stepping out from her father's grip as she jerked her thumb toward him. "Kinda his idea."

"Ah yes, her father." The man replied, sticking out a hand. "I'm Mr. Gold. I own much of the property here in Storybrooke. You are...new, to town?"

David eyed the gesture warily before taking his hand. The curse had been Regina's doing, he knew, but he would be sorely incorrect to completely underestimate the possibility of this man's involvement. He seemed a man here, his skin no longer bronzed, his nails not dark and long. He didn't appear to recognize David, so he took the man's hand and shook it slowly. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Gold. We've had some car trouble, so we need to stay a few days to figure everything out."

"Ah, I see. Well, how fortunate it happened so close to our wonderful town. You and your daughter are sure to be absolutely...enchanted, with the townspeople here."

Emma smiled at him, but the hairs on the back of David' neck stood up; apparently, he was right to be more cautious. The property owner seemed to nod ever so slightly, an innocent enough gesture by those who weren't familiar with him, and an acknowledgement by others who did. "It's...been nice to meet you sir. We've really got to get settled though, it's been a horribly long night." Emma offered apologetically.

"Of course, of course." By now, Granny had emerged from the back with a thick roll of bills, handing it over to Mr. Gold with a shaky hand. As he took the money, he stole a glance at David, who stared at the woman until she joined her granddaughter behind the lobby counter. He smiled with a nod. "I'll leave you to your business, but if you needed anything, be sure to stop by my shop on Main St. I'd wager I have quite a few..._charming_ artifacts you may take a shining to. I do advise you avoid our dear Mayor for as long as you may be able to. As much as you would expect, she doesn't take as kindly to strangers as the rest of us." He brought his cane up as he opened the door to leave the inn, and tapped on a picture hanging above the desk. He let the door close behind him with a sharp smile, taking note of how David appeared to grow more rigid with every word. Of course the slippery old imp knew what was going on; not only that, but it appeared he still took quite the delight in playing with his food.

David sighed. Still, there had been a clue his riddled words. He and Rumple had always had a somewhat interesting relationship; antagonistic, but almost symbiotic. Wary, he leaned toward the frame, aware of Emma finishing up the transaction behind him and getting the room keys. The article that was framed made David' heart clench in his chest.

It was an article about the Inn's opening, a smiling Gran and a somewhat ambivalent looking Ruby standing on either side of a dark haired woman with a bright red smile, a large pair of scissors in her hand. He would visit Mr. Gold's shop sooner than later, he decided. If he was going to go against the most powerful woman in the town, he was going to have to consider at least hearing the devilish man out.

* * *

_Her hands folded on her rounded stomach, tears gathering in her eyes as she leaned back against the tiled siding of the rest stop bathroom. At 2:30 in the morning, it was unlikely she would be interrupted; she gritted her teeth and held her breath as another contraction ripped through her body, blinding her with pain. She sank to the ground as it ended._

_How had she gotten here?_

_It had barely been over a year since she'd left home. It was only supposed to be a short road trip, for a month at the most, but Bae had been funny, and charming, and quick witted. He had made her laugh like no one else had before, and the way he looked at her when he didn't think she could see him, made her feel like the most special thing in the entire world._

_Sleeping with him had been her first mistake; sleeping with him and not being safe enough about it, had been her other._

_And now she was here, all alone. Anna had gone with the boy she was with originally, vehemently opposed to returning back home where her situation was much worse than Emma's was. Bae, as soon as was told the news of their impending arrival, had freaked out and left with them, shoving $500 dollars into her hands and telling her to take care of it and head home to her father. As they had driven away and Emma had looked at the money, dumbfounded with her new predicament, the idea of taking care of it was just something she did not want to do._

_She was so close to going home too. She wanted nothing more than to curl up with her father like she'd done as a small child when she was sick, inhaling the scent of dirt and soap and old farm clothes. To have him brush his hand over her hair and hum a song to her that was all his own, and tuck her in when it was time to sleep._

_But then she remembered, she wasn't a little girl anymore. And going home like this, meant her father knowing that she had not only left him without so much as a real goodbye, but that she had also gotten herself into a situation she didn't know how to get out of. She knew her father though; he would indeed, be disappointed, and hurt and probably very angry. But he would open his arms, and his home, and take her back without question, because she was his._

_Just like this tiny thing that now was clawing it's way out of her was **hers**._

_That had been the other problem though. If she went home, he would want the baby to stay with them. And Emma...Emma knew they could do it; but her father shouldn't have to. The farm wasn't exactly the most lucrative for just them, although they made do comfortably enough. Adding another mouth to the mix without her being able to provide much help herself wasn't fair.  
_

_She had so many things she wanted now that she hadn't before, things that with a child, may not be an option. She didn't know how to be a mother; she had never really been shown how, although Ruth had always been there for her more than enough of the time. But she was a child still herself, and this baby...well, he or she deserved everything that she couldn't give. It deserved two parents, and possibilities..._

_Her father would never forgive her, if he knew. But this was what she wanted. She wanted to stay with her father and work on the farm at home, she wanted to study veterinary science for livestock and birth calves in the spring, and she wanted this baby to have what she hadn't, even if what she'd had had been perfect in it's own way; she knew that now._

_She screamed now, unable to hold back any longer, and a pool of liquid formed between her legs on the cement. Her water had finally broken, after hours of increasingly painful contractions. That could definitely only mean one thing._

_She lay there for what felt like an eternity although it was probably only a few hours. She wondered if she was even going to make it. She wondered if she would die here, if her father would ever know what had happened to her, if he would know about the baby. If he would hate her. She hoped not. If she had gotten anything out of this whole thing, it was that she really understood how lucky she was to have him, despite the lies she felt he'd told her. For all her life, he had worked to make her life better than what he had at the time, and this was how she had acted. She just wanted him to know how sorry she was for it all._

_Soon, the pressure became to great, and she began to bear down. She propped herself up against the wall to brace herself and pushed, eyes closed, breath held, with every ounce of strength she could muster. A cry soon broke the silence and she fell back, sobbing. She wanted to go home._

_She picked the baby up, wrapping him in the leather bomber Bae had so mercifully left her when they'd left her at the diner in Tucson. Somehow, over the months she had made it back here; working odd jobs along the way, scrimping and saving to get to Boston. She needed to get to a hospital, she knew. Hospital's took babies, she thought. They would take him. It was a him, after all, a him with a brown mat of hair and bright blue eyes. He stared up at her for a moment, and she made herself look away. She wouldn't be able to do it if she didn't._

_She needed to get up now, even though she hurt. She needed to find a phone, or walk some and get a car to pull over. Someone would have a phone, she thought to herself. It was 2000; who didn't have phones?_

_She leaned back against the wall to breathe, and to think. Her eyelids began to lower, slowly at first, then quicker as she'd snap them open. **Just for a second**, she thought to herself, allowing them to rest for only a moment. **Then i'll get up.**_

_"...I will be right out, Frank, it will take less than a...oh my God." The woman's voice softened quickly, horrified by the scene in front of her. A girl, couldn't have been more than 17 or 18 with a child resting on her chest, wrapped in black leather and screaming at the top of his lungs. She was asleep, her arms wrapped around him, pulling him to her chest. The girl's skirt was soaked in blood and other fluids that had made the bathroom smell more than it usually would, and the woman would've have recoiled had it not been for the newborn wailing next to her. She went right back out the door._

_"Frank! FRANK! Call 911!"_

* * *

_When she first awoke in the hospital, she had panicked. A nurse held out the child, his face scrunched and pink, and Emma had pushed her hands away, told her she didn't want him and to give him away. The woman had pulled the baby to her, her expression one of shock and judgement._

_"Do I look old enough to take care of him? Give him to someone who has their life together." She had spat, just wanting him gone. She knew that if she acquiesced, if she held him, if she let him yawn and grab her finger and look into her eyes, that she would make a decision that would end worse for the both of them._

_They had given her more medicine shortly after that, after a social worker had come in and had her sign some things; apparently, they had been prepared for such a decision. But in the hazy fog of pain medication and something for her exhaustion and dehydration, she was not thinking clearly enough. And she signed her name. Her full name._

_When she allowed her eyes to flutter open a day later, her body feeling more well rested and more normal that it had in too long, she had turned over to sight that had made her burst into tears. David sat next to her bed, his body curled in on itself as he slept in what looked like a very uncomfortable position. Her sobs disturbed him awake, and for a moment, he just stared at her, as if unable to fully comprehend the situation they had found themselves in now. Slowly, he pulled his chair alongside her bed, and grabbed out for her hand, swallowing hard. Her cries strengthened then, her body curling in on itself with the force of it all, and he smoothed her hair with his free hand, kissing her temple as she squeezed his hand harder. She began to babble apologies, over and over, gasping through her tears, and he kept telling her it was all right, that he was there, that he wasn't going to leave._

_When her crying abated, she laid on her pillow looking at him, her hand still around his in a vice grip. Now it was his turn to speak._

_"Why didn't you come to me?" He asked, his tone pained. "I would've helped you, Emma."_

_"I know...i know! I just..." Fresh tears filmed her eyes, but she forced herself to keep from crying; she'd had enough of that with the initial breakdown, thank you very much. "I thought you would be mad. Disappointed. I thought..."_

_"I would've been, but I would've helped you Emma. We could've worked this out."_

_She paused for a few moments, the silence filled with unbearable other questions that had no other choice but to be asked. "Are you mad at me for my decision?"_

_**Her decision.** The adoption. He swallowed, clenching her hand once more. "If that is the decision you made and you're sure of it. Then no. I'm not."_

_It was evident that it was not the decision that he had preferred, and there seemed to be a pain on his face that she couldn't quite decipher. "There's just so much I want to do still. And he deserves...he deserves a parent or two that could live up to you, and you've already done this once." She shook her head. "I just couldn't, daddy."_

_She looked so guilty, yet so relieved, and not for the first time, it seemed he was back in the forest with the newborn in his arms, and he remembered the pit that had formed in his stomach, the uncertain terror. Emma had been born of true love, and was all he had had left of his happy ending and of his life. This child...he didn't really want to think of how he had come to be; he hoped it had merely been a fling gone south, but he knew more sinister situations may have been responsible. If that was the case, he hoped he never had the fortune of meeting up with the man on the other end of it, for he really didn't want to spend the rest of his life in a jail cell._

_"I know, I messed up." She stated softly. "And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left, but I wanted to find her. I wanted to know...and I don't even know how it happened! One day we were leaving home, and the next, they left me at a diner in Arizona on my own, and I don't even really know how I got there half the time! And I'm just so sorry..." She was starting to get worked up again, her breathing becoming ragged and panicked. He gently grabbed both sides of her face and tilted it up towards his own._

_"Hey, **hey**." He knelt forward, his forehead against hers as she sniffed and gulped for air. "It's me and you, right? It's always been me and you, against the world. We're gonna get you through this."_

_She nodded and he planted a kiss on her forehead before sitting up. "Now. Let's see what we need to do, about getting you home."_

* * *

The mansion on the hill stood there for a reason. It was the perfect place to watch over the town of Storybrooke on high, a perch for the mayor to witness the residents below and bask in their misery, their purposeless lives. She could see right down to main street, where Granny's diner, the Pawn Shop and the Library stood.

But tonight she wasn't paying attention. Tonight, she had fallen asleep early, body exhausted by a spirited session with her Sheriff with benefits, and had not even noticed him slip away before the 20th hour began. So when the clock started, she knew nothing of being alarmed.

The boy however; the boy watched from his window, and saw the cop car drive down main, right past the library where a clock stood tall on the street, it's arms stuck at 8:15 for the whole of his life. He sighed despondently, drumming his fingers on the fine leather cover of a book in his lap. And then it happened.

The clock hand moved.

**_8:16._**

The boy smiled.

Something was happening in Storybrooke.

* * *

_AN: I would like to thank everyone for leaving the awesome, great reviews that I keep getting. I'm sorry I'm not better about thanking you all individually, but I read all of them. I have been planning on introducing Henry, so I especially was looking forward to how this bit is received. _


	4. Use My Head

AN: I apologize profusely, but work has become absolutely ridiculous. That, and I am quite the baseball fan, as you may be able to tell from my pen name, and my team has been performing quite well, and I can become kind of focused on that haha. Annnnddddd the show, of course; I love it, and it's distracting. Especially since, there's a part of this chapter that got Jossed/Kripked/Kitsised-Horowitzed, in a way. It's a bit different, though, the way I've done it. I'm trying to get this out, so if there are some minor issues, or if it seems rushed (i'd actually really enjoy to hear if you think it sounds like that, because i'll be more conscious as I finish up the next chapter) please forgive me :)

* * *

She wasn't used to change, and she was not a very big fan of it. She arose that Saturday morning with a stretch of her arms and a deep, contented sigh through smiling lips. She had slept well, the time with the Sheriff of her town from the night before having left her invigorated and relaxed. She showered slowly, enjoying the hot water and expensive perfumes and soaps, wondering if Henry was up yet and what he had planned on the day. She knew he enjoyed the diner for breakfast, but he would be back soon enough. She had some things to take care of in her home office-maybe he'd want to see a movie later. It had been some time since they'd had some quality time together, and she smiled to herself to think of it.

She dried her hair and dressed relatively quickly, settling in her office and getting to work with what she needed to take care of, and it was a hour or so before she decided to get herself some hot cider and biscuits. As it heated up, she contentedly stared out her window, enjoying the view of the little town she lorded over. A soft smile played on her face; her most hated enemy miserable for all eternity, and her beautiful son-recently more troubled than usual, but she was sure they would get past it with the help of Archie Hopper-and not a care otherwise. It was perfect, and wonderful, and for the first time, in so long, she could truly say that she was-

Her thoughts came to a halt in her mind, the skin between her eyes wrinkling in alarm. She leaned forward, staring out the window at the town below. In the distance, she could see the face of the clock tower.

The time on it was _wrong._It was all wrong! It had moved!

A cold feeling snaked through her belly, and suddenly, she wasn't so very hungry anymore.

* * *

David couldn't have slept for more than a few sparse hours that night, racing thoughts having kept him tossing and turning for most of it. It was early when he knocked on Emma's door, tired eyes and hair still wet from the shower greeting him with an exasperated expression.

"Seriously?" She asked, grabbing a flannel button up from her suitcase, and threw it on as he stood in the doorway to wait for her. Granny had told him the night before of the diner she and Ruby ran on Main Street across from the pawn shop, and he had decided that a private session with Mr. Gold may be the best thing to kick off their stay here in this sleepy little town. They needed to get to the mechanic as well, for he was leery of leaving his prized possession merely hidden beneath the floor of the trunk. He didn't need that to go missing as well.

Emma, on the other hand, had slept more soundly than she had in many weeks. The harvest had been hard work, and she had had many a late night out with a few other farmers around town as their mare's foaled in the night, the near fall weather causing her to be extra cautious with their births. Although this wasn't exactly she had in mind for her first night of vacation, the town seemed quaint and quiet enough, a place she may want to stay for a bit. As it were the beginning of the weekend, she was eager to explore the town when few were probably enjoying a lazy day, with few busy at work or school.

They decided to walk to the diner in town, only a few blocks by the older woman's direction. Her father was still tense, and circles had now formed under his eyes. He seemed twitchy and nervous, his head swinging this way and that, as if searching for something or someone she didn't know about. She brought her hand to the cut on his head.

"Are you feeling alright? Do we need to go to the hospital for that?"

He jerked away from her, shaking his head with a frown. "It's nothing, Ems. I just...there was something weird about that Gold guy last night, don't you think? Did you not get the vibe?" He asked. She offered a confused smile.

"I really didn't. He seemed...welcoming. Maybe a bit advantageous, but he's a business man. Probably will try and sell us some property or something." She stuffed her hands in her pockets with a shrug. "I kinda like it here though. It's...cute, ya know?"

David opened the door to the diner, a bell ringing above their heads. Ruby stood behind the counter in a pair of short white shorts and an apron, her black hair sitting atop her head in a high ponytail, stripes of red coursing through it. She smiled and waved, so they situated themselves on the bar stools in front of her.

"What'll it be for you folks to drink?" She asked, handing them menus. Emma took a quick look and smiled up at her.

"Hot chocolate with cinnamon, please?" She asked brightly, shooting her father a grin. He wasn't quite the fan she was, so they didn't have it very often at home. But there it sat, listed on the menu. Even in his fervor, he rolled his eyes with a soft smile.

"I'll have a coffee, cream and sugar please." He replied easily, and Ruby nodded, spinning to retrieve the orders. David took the opportunity to look around the diner.

There were a few, somewhat familiar faces. He recognized a man sitting across from a woman in a booth as one of his old guardsmen, still the same as he looked 28 years before-with less chain-mail, of course; the woman had been some form of nobility, a wife of a duke in town who definitely was not this man. He frowned. Had Regina done that as well to everyone? Changed everyone's lives?

He considered Ruby's appearance. Red had always been reserved, and decently conservative with her actions; he would not act as if he had not seen the looks she'd been shooting his way, the sly wink she had shot him when she thought Emma was not looking. It wasn't as if those shorts would've been worn by anyone back home, but the way she walked in her heels, her shirt tied up as well...it was nothing that Red ever would've been comfortable with. It made him all the more embarrassed, because he knew when they broke this wretched curse-and it was a matter of when and not if-she would be absolutely mortified. She and David had always had more of a sibling like relationship, especially once he had actually married Snow.

The thought saddened him as he watched her bustle back in the kitchen after she retrieved their drinks for them. He had always missed his wife something fierce these last 28 years, but he had not thought as much of his friends that had been left behind. He found himself thinking of their inside jokes, their whispered teasing of Snow with each other, the whispered teasing he knew they shared of him as well. Gods, he had missed her so much.

He had missed all of them so much.

Snow was nowhere to be seen though. His heart fell only a little, surprisingly enough, but he would rather not come upon her quite accidentally, especially with Emma in tow. He knew for sure, now, that it seemed no one knew who they really were, stuck forever at the time of life they were when the curse was enacted, and he would need every ounce of self control he had to keep from rushing her when he saw her, from picking her up and holding on for dear life and exclaiming that, as he had promised, he had found her once again.

If she was even in the town, that was. If she were alive still.

He felt that he would know though, as he had once the poisoned apple had taken hold of her. He would know if she were gone, if her soul had left the mortal plane and crossed over to whatever lay in front of them. But he also wasn't sure how the veil between the worlds worked; though it looked similar, this was not the same land. This land, without magic, could have drastically different effects.

"I think I'm gonna get waffles." Emma's voice pulled him from his thoughts. He had to laugh at her, bumping her playfully with a shoulder.

"I, for one, am shocked." He commented, taking a look at his own menu. Emma's penchant for breakfast food-especially that of the once battered state-was no secret to him. He could no longer stand them, in fact, having eaten them seemingly for years straight, once she had discovered them at the young age of three. Having to clean up a syrupy toddler was enough to put him off for the rest of his life. He smiled up at Ruby, who had returned to await their orders. "I'll have the veggie omelet, please, egg white only." She nodded with a wink at him and strode off, hips swaying with every step of her impossibly high red heels.

"Watching your girlish figure?" His daughter shot back, sipping at her hot drink. She closed her eyes in contentment.

"Well, I'm not nearly as young as I once was."

"The help certainly doesn't seem to mind."

He felt his neck grow warm. So she had noticed Ruby's not so subtle flirtation. He held the grin from his lips. Emma, for all her playful jabs and dry humors, wasn't as keen on sharing him as she let on. Sure, if he had brought a serious interest home, he believed, given one of their more strained periods of their life, she would've accepted the woman. But for some reason, these advances-especially by younger women-sometimes put Emma on the defense. He decided to complement her sarcasm with humor, acknowledging it head on instead of awkwardly sidestepping it. He slid a look her way.

"Oh, am I so awful then?" He cocked an eyebrow and she rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "No, no, don't think I don't still have it. I mean, I'll get up right now..." He started to wiggle his shoulders, and she choked on her drink as a laugh bubbled out.

"Don't you dare, these people don't even know you!" She shook her head, grabbing his arm. He winked at her, shifting on the bar stool as she squared back with the counter. "Let's not scare them all on our first day, hm? We could be stuck here awhile."

"At least everyone seems nice. Granny, the Sheriff," He shot her a pointed look and was satisfied at the embarrassed flush that crept up her neck. Serves you right, he thought with a smile. "Even that Mr. Gold character."

"You literally just said not five minutes ago that he was weird."

"Weird, maybe, but polite. I think I may go over to his shop after breakfast, have a chat with him while you go explore a little."

Ruby reappeared with two platefuls of food, and David felt his stomach rumble, realizing suddenly that with all the excitement the night before, his last meal had been a bag of Funyons in the late afternoon. As Ruby asked if they needed anything else, and both declined, Emma slid a look at him while she walked away. Mr. Gold forgotten for the time being, they dug into their meals, commenting on how delicious everything was and how nice it was to have something different. Granny even emerged from the back and asked how they liked everything, and began to give them ideas of areas to look around at if they wanted to kill some time as they waited the few days for their car to be ready.

"We have some beautiful hiking, I must admit. If you're up for that type of thing. The miner's museum is fantastic as well. And the town theater puts on a nice show once a month with a lot of the people here. They're no Oscar winners, but they do enjoy themselves so. You should check it out!"

David smiled warmly at the older woman, keenly aware of Emma looking slightly bored out of the corner of his eye. "Granny, we most certainly will. Thank you so much for your hospitality, I have no idea what we'd have done without it."

She smiled, flustered at the compliment, and her gaze seemed to rest on him for a second longer than it should have. His heart flipped in his chest; her eyes somehow glazed over, as if looking at something far away before she blinked, shook her head with a small laugh and swatted at him playfully before heading back into the kitchen. "Mr. Shepherd, you just let me know if you or your daughter need anything."

Emma was smirking at him once more. "Young and old," She muttered, sipping at her drink once more. "So gross..."

He rolled his eyes as Ruby brought over the check. He threw the plastic card on the counter. "What sort of trouble were you going to try to get in today?"

She shrugged now. "I'm definitely going to call the garage and check on the car, see how long it looks like it's going to take. Maybe go for a walk around here, see what else it has to offer. Mingle with the town folk. You know, something to kill the time. You said you wanted to visit Gold?"

"He's strange," He pointed out, shrugging his shoulders. "But I want to get some information about the town. Even apologize. I know I was a little odd last night."

She snorted a laugh, wiping at her mouth. "A little? I thought we were going to have to go to the hospital for whatever you did to your head."

He rolled his eyes. "It wasn't that bad." He shoveled a last bit of omelet into his mouth. "We're in a strange town, with people we don't know. I was being cautious."

"You were being over protective." She corrected with a raised eyebrow. "But I guess that's okay, given we were in a car accident and all." She sipped at her cocoa.

He nodded, thanking Ruby as she brought the check back and he slipped his things in his back pocket. "Well, I was thinking I'd head over now, since it's early. We can meet back at the rooms in a few hours."

"Here, wait up. I'll come with." Emma wiped at her mouth with her napkin, throwing it down on her plate over the half eaten Belgian waffle.

"No!" David exclaimed, holding out a hand, startling her back onto the bar stool. He smile sheepishly. "Um, I mean...I kind of wanted to discuss some things with Mr. Gold, alone. Why don't you just hang out here, maybe chat with some of the locals?"

She examined him questioningly, his emphatic response startling her. He was still acting so strange, but his expression was decided and almost concerned. She shrugged. "I...I guess. I'll just..." She lifted her almost empty mug and sighed over dramatically. "...get another cocoa and drown my sorrows by reading on my phone."

He chuckled at her, leaning in to place a kiss on her forehead. She was still looking at him strangely, so he tried to behave as cavalier as possible when really, his stomach churned with anxiety, the omelet not settling as well as he'd have liked. He hated not knowing what he was doing. He hated not knowing what he was walking into, or if he was really doing the right thing and he really hated dealing with Rumpelstiltskin in any capacity. It may have been 28 years, but he knew the man would be unchanged. He sighed as he approached the shop, trying to quiet the nagging voice in his head that said this was a bad idea. As much as it may be correct, Gold was the only person here who seemed to know who he was, and be conscious of Regina's hold over the town. He would need something to help him work through it, and he was the only option. He just needed to be as cautious as possible.

**_Closed_**

He cursed to himself. Of course the shop was closed. To be fair, it was still early, but he had a sneaking feeling that this was just another game being played. He grew tired of feeling like a mouse in this situation. He had had many years to think on it-more than he would've preferred-and he knew now that Rumpelstiltskin's role in their lives was more deeply rooted than anyone would've guessed. He had orchestrated so much of this, David believed, but to what end, he did not know.

He groaned. He supposed he'd come back later. His ambivalence was becoming overwhelming. Did he want to step inside the shop, really, or could he have the man meet him somewhere else? Couldn't there be a more fair setting, one where he wasn't completely in Gold's court, subject to any possibly ploy he wanted to execute?

Did he want to know what was in the shop? Gold had teased that the two of them may be interested in the goods he provided. His heart leapt; might even Snow...

He shook his head. He couldn't let that get in the way of this. He could not let his heart override his mind, not now, not when so much was dependent upon all of this.

He prepared himself to turn and return to the diner, crestfallen at the sign on the door when he heard a bell ring behind him.

"Going somewhere, dearie?" The taunting tone danced in his ears, and he closed his eyes against it. "I was just opening for the day. If you needed anything."

"Mr. Gold." David began, forcing a smile as he turned. "You mentioned your...magical little shop here may have some interesting fares. I just figured I may take you up on your offer." He slid past the man holding the door open, pressing as far away as he could as he strolled in, gaze swinging around the room. There were many trinkets of the old world there that caught his eyes, his heart clenching in his chest. He raised a hand to a ever familiar mobile hanging above a glass counter, delicate unicorns tied to something like fishing wire that he knew as fairy threads. His finger grazed one of them, the smooth glass beneath cold and light. He turned away, his expression pained. Gold stood, his arms crossed with his cane in hand, his face bemused. David wanted to punch him.

"Charming, isn't it?"

"Cut the crap." He snapped, crossing his own arms as he leaned against the counter. "I know who you are. Rumpelstiltskin."

The shop owner didn't react visibly except for to smile a bit more. He pushed himself to motion, wandering behind the counter now, seemingly content to have a barrier between the two. That piqued David' interest. The man seemed well aware of David anger, and seemed more cautious now himself. As if he were powerless.

"That's a lot of anger, dearie. Not exactly the most admirable way to go about getting what you want."

"Well, excuse me for being a bit pissed off. You see, after 28 years, I'm finally close to getting the love of my life and all of our friends back. It's been a lonely road."

"Even with your daughter? Seems a bit severe to not consider her in all of this."

"She is all I consider!" He spat back. "She is the only reason I even survived this world, because I had to, for her. But now we're back, and your curse is going to be broken."

"My curse?" The man asked suddenly, a snide smile on his face. He chuckled dryly, shaking his head. "Seems senility is setting in a bit early for you."

"Don't act like you had nothing to do with this."

"I will admit, I may have played some part in this but the implementation of this situation is all Regina's fine hand."

"You think I'm naive enough to believe that." David scoffed quickly, shaking his head. "So you admit it. To who you are. You acknowledge your true self."

The man behind the counter smirked, skipping in place as he flourished his arms. "Guilty as charged."

"Well, now that that is out of the way...I need to know exactly what is going on here."

"And, given our past interactions, you expect me to just..." Gold flicked his wrist. "Offer this information up for free?"

David laughed dryly. "Mr. Gold, I have learned to never expect anything from you."

The man shrugged casually and rested his cane against the glass counter as he leaned forward on it toward the Prince. "So what am I getting out of the deal?"

"Alliance." David replied evenly. "It's the best thing I can offer, at least, in exchange for a few questions asked. I can't imagine you enjoy being stuck under Regina's thumb. Although something tells me, that's already something you've considered."

Gold didn't respond, but David felt his gaze peering at him through the long hair on his forehead. A few moments of silence passed until the devilish man sighed heavily. "And what is it you'll be wanting to know?"

He took it as a sign that the man had agreed to their terms and smiled tightly, leaning back once more with his arms crossed across his chest. "I need to know how it works."

The imp behind the counter smiled back. "You'll have to be more specific about that, dearie."

David held in a growl, Mr. Gold's response making it evident that this would be a hard won process. "They obviously don't know who I am."

Gold snorted. "Well, they don't know who they are. How on earth would they know who you were?"

"And they don't remember themselves?"

Gold was silent for a few moments, his fingers dancing on the glass of the counter as he contemplated how exactly to answer Charming's query. "I think you've already observed that."

David fumed inwardly, but pushed himself to a straighter position. "But why?"

"Because," Gold began, now grabbing his cane and waltzing around from behind his counter. Apparently, the deal that had been struck was enough to make him comfortable enough with the man not attacking him. "This curse was cast so that the person who was responsible would achieve their greatest of happiness's."

"Regina." David spat, scowling. "And that means that everyone else must be miserable."

Gold admired the cognitive skills Charming seemed to have developed in his time here in this realm. "Aye. She took every bad part of them, that which was buried the deepest and amplified it. Like your wolf friend, for example; insecurity, and neediness, and desire. And now look at her; would your Red be so comfortable?"

David face burned red in a mix of anger and frustration, but he shoved it away so that he could focus on the matter at hand. "So how do we break it?"

Gold grinned with a scoff. "Ah, ah, ah, that...that you must figure out yourself, dear Majesty."

David curled his fingers in tightly to make fists at his side, willing himself not to strike the man. "You said..."

"I agreed, I would explain it to you. I never said anything more than that. You, and your daughter, must be the ones to figure out how to free your loved ones from the curse."

_Loved ones._ David breath caught in his throat, his heart stalling almost. A wave of vertigo seemed to wash over him and he had to hold himself steady; he could feel Rumple's eyes upon him. "And...do all of my loved ones...are they all well?"

It wasn't as subtle as he'd have liked but there it was. Rumple scoffed softly, returning back behind the counter. "As well as can be, trapped in time without their true selves." He remarked wryly. He had debated whether to lead the man there, not wanting to disclose too much too early, not wanting to disclose too much at all. Although he knew how to truly break the curse, he needed time still, to get all his affairs in order. And plus, he did not expect it to be as easy for Charming and his daughter as one may hope.

Still, the news seemed to invigorate the aged man in front of him a bit. Feelings warred within him; a part of him felt a strange sense of pleasure at the man's joy, but it was also somewhat against his best interest in the end to work with Charming. It wasn't a secret that they had had a somewhat mutually beneficial relationship back in their old world-the enemy of your enemy is your friend, and Regina posed much higher of a threat to the two of them individually than they did to each other-but Charming had locked him away still. When the curse ended, he did not want to be left hanging if Charming wasn't feeling so charitable. Not sure if he would able to return magic, he didn't want to be stuck in a less than advantageous position.

"Then I will find her. I always will."

"Yes, so I've heard," Gold mused, rolling his eyes as he turned to the shelves to appear to busy himself. He had provided all the information he had wanted to at the moment, and wished for Charming to take his leave. He had only been himself for a few days now and he wished to collect his thoughts and go over his broader plans. Charming seemed to get the hint, but stood for a few awkward, silent moments before turning to leave.

"I just hope I can stall my daughter long enough to break it, before she wants to leave."

Gold stiffened, turning quickly. He had not expected that as much; he knew how fervent the prince could be when it came to saving his beloved, so he had expected that nothing could make him leave, and by extension, his daughter. But he supposed 28 years could change a person; he supposed, he could relate to how a child's needs could do the same.

"If you leave, you may not be able to return." Gold informed him cryptically, his voice low and breathy. David stopped in his tracks, spinning around slowly.

"You mean, we will be blocked from the bounds of the town?"

"Not...exactly. You see, the Witch had to have a way of protecting herself. The country in which this town sits, they have tithes and laws just like our old world did, but she wanted no outside interference. Unless you have knowledge somehow of the town being here, you can not find it. And if anyone leaves...the further they travel from the boundaries of the town, the less they remember about it's existence and all of the townspeople within. Wherever you're from, I don't think it's close enough to maintain the knowledge; if would just fade away within a day or so."

"That doesn't make sense," David rebutted shaking his head. "Neither of us knew it was here before."

"Dearie, I'm just letting you know how it works." The pawn shop owner's voice became tight and obviously annoyed.

"Why?" He asked smoothly, well aware Gold didn't just offer information. "That's more than what you wanted to tell me originally, I know it. Why tell me now?" The imp shrugged, his lip stuck out in an expression of indifference.

"Well, that my friend, is just the question. I will need a favor, in the future. The help of your lovely daughter, and her...special knack for finding some people."

David growled, low in his throat. "You stay away from my daughter! If you harm one hair on her head..."

"Harm her? Oh dearie, no. I need her help to find someone, is all. Do you think you and she would be so willing to oblige? For my...cooperation?"

David examined him up and down. "I cannot speak for my daughter, she is her own woman. I, however...I will help you. For your cooperation, of course."

"Well then." His grin widening. "I suppose that's better than nothing."

* * *

He had arrived at the diner early in the morning like he usually did on Saturdays after getting up early to watch cartoons and shows. His mother had still been sleeping, so he had snuck out and come to grab some breakfast. He knew she usually worked a little, and she left him alone, for the most part. He ran his hand over the embossed leather cover of his book of stories, the stone in his stomach settling more and more. As he began to piece together exactly what had happened through the book, he felt less and less like being around her.

He saw the strange couple come into the diner, the younger woman's blonde waves and the older man's whitening, receding hairline piquing his interest. Strangers were not common...or, really, an occurrence at all, in Storybrooke. He got a chill at the vision of the clock tower looming in the distance, now ticking for the first time in all his years in this small town. He wondered if maybe they had something to do with it.

He couldn't help but stare at the older man. He looked to be in his fifties at the most, with a strong body and eyes that twinkled as he laughed at the younger woman. There was something oddly familiar about the smile on his face, and the cut of his jawline.

Or perhaps, the scar Henry noticed ON his jawline.

His heart began to race as he scooted close to the wall to not be noticed and flipped through his storybook. Yes! Yes, that was it! The scar was almost identical to the one the Prince had received from Snow White! His gaze darted up, suddenly much more interested in the couple.

The two sat, playful banter back and forth between them until Ruby came and took their order. They spoke in soft tones, looking about the diner to examine the people of Storybrooke, and Henry could see a certain type of scrutiny in the elder man's gaze that wasn't in the young woman's. She looked about in a curious way, as if she were observing everything for just the first time, but he looked as if he were almost looking for someone. Henry buried himself further into the book, making sure he knew everything he was reading up on.

"Mr. Shepherd, you just let me know if you or your daughter need anything!" He heard Granny exclaim, his interest once more raised, but for an entirely different reason. He had heard the man call the younger woman Emma. The name, of the woman he had found, had been Emma Shepherd. Could it be at all possible, that instead of having to leave and find her himself, that she had stumbled upon them instead? Was it at all possible, that the Emma and the book and the woman who he had uncovered after searching for weeks, were one and the same?

Completely unaware of the scrutiny from the booth behind her, Emma had watched her father enter the store, the shop owner standing outside and looking back and forth as if he were afraid they were being watched. Her expression furrowed in confusion. What in the world was he...?

"Your name is Emma? You and your dad are the new people in town?" An abrupt, higher pitched voice came from behind her and she craned her neck to look. Finding no one at her height, she lowered her gaze and met a child's eyes below her. He smiled toothily as he offered a quick wave. "Hi!"

"Hey...kid. Yeah. Yeah, I'm Emma." She replied, her attention returning to the pawn shop across the street. Something was going on here. Her father was acting absolutely looney tunes and now, the man who, (even if she didn't want to fully admit it to her father) did seem a tad bit creepy, now appeared to be sneaking around as well. In a town, with people they'd never met! Something had spooked him. She frowned, making a mental note to check at the garage soon. She wanted to be out of here as soon as she could.

"Can you come over to my booth?"

"Are you here by yourself?" She asked in surprise, suddenly aware there was no overzealous parent fluttering over to apologize for the precocious child in front of her. He nodded and headed toward an empty booth in the back, a backpack on the seat and a finely crafted leather bound book on the table next to toast. She shrugged. What else did she have to do? After all, he said talk to locals.

She followed him to a booth, taking her half mug of cocoa with her as she slid onto the opposite bench. Her interest rose as she saw a similar mix sitting next to the boys book, which he moved to open, a bright smile on his face. "Hey, I like cinnamon with mine too!" She exclaimed. "Small world!"

"Maybe not as much as you'd think," He muttered, looming over the book. Her expression changed to one of confusion, and when he didn't say anything else as he furtively turned pages, she relaxed back.

"What have you got there?"

He paused, look up at her through his bangs skeptically. "Um...well. I don't know if I'm totally right, but everything fits..."

Her confused look deepened. "Kid, did you ask me over here for a reason?"

"My name, is Henry." He stated, sounding annoyed. She held back a smile.

"Sorry...Henry." She crossed her arms and leaned forward. "So, what's with the book?"

He regarded her thoughtfully. "Well. It's a book of stories. About storybook characters."

She could see the faint illustrations across the table. "Okay..."

"And they're true."

She fought against rolling her eyes, but leaned back with a nod. "Oh. I see. And you wanted to show me that because..."

"Because I think you're in this book too. And your dad. That was your dad, right? The old guy at the counter?"

She felt a tickling at the back of her neck, and the faint hint of bile at the base of her throat. From far away, she remembered the argument she had had with her father long ago that had torn them apart, irreparably for so long. "Kid, your imagination is cute..."

"The clock started moving last night. When you guys came to town." He explained simply, letting his hand hit the table for emphasis. "It's the curse beginning to break."

"Curse?"

"On the town. Everyone here is in the book too. Like her," He nodded toward Ruby, spinning the book around and shoving it toward Emma. In the illustration stood a woman with a red hood, a basket on her arm.

"You think...that Ruby is red riding hood?"

"Not think," He shook his head. "I know."

She looked down at the book, deciding to humor the boy who had so abruptly and out of the blue, thrust such a ridiculous story upon her. At least she was being entertained, she supposed. "So is this what you do to all the strangers that come to town? Don't even work them in on the crazy?"

"Strangers don't come to Storybrooke." He replied simply. "At least, not since I've been here. And no one ages. Except for me."

Emma let her eyebrows raise up and down quickly, again fighting against rolling her eyes. "And you think me, just because my name is Emma, out of millions and millions of people in the world with that name, that I'm in this book."

He, on the other hand, wasn't giving her the same courtesy and rather theatrically rolled his eyes. "I told you. The clock." He sipped at his cocoa. "And because your dad is Prince Charming."

At that, she could not hold back, barking out a laugh as she pushed back from the table. "Oh geez, kid. There you may be right."

Well, this made complete sense, she thought to herself. Obviously, the boy had come across the same story her father had read when she was still a child. It added a layer of understanding to the blatant lie she had felt he had thrown at her as a teenager. She had understood him to be madly in love with whoever the hell her mother had been, and had adopted such fantasies to cover for it. Many would want their loved ones to get help, but as he had dropped the insistence of the claim, rather than speak of it at all, she had done the same. She hoped this would not reawaken the delusion in him; she'd have to keep the kid away from him.

"And you think everyone in this book, is trapped by a curse?"

He nodded, happy she seemed to be tracking. "Mm hmm."

"Cast by...let me guess, an evil Queen?"

"Yes!" He exclaimed excitedly. "Yes, exactly! They're trapped, and you and your dad, you're the ones who can save them."

This kid was a trip. "I see."

"There's kind of more." He added, content that she was obviously buying into his explanation. She raised an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah? What, you got Cinderella and her Prince at the next table over?"

He waved her off. "Nah, the curse separated them. She works at the Laundromat down the street."

Her eyes widened. "Oookay. Well, then. What else is there?"

Now he looked scared, and he swallowed, eyes darting around. His voice lowered. "Do you have a kid? Or have you had one? Once?"

Her heart began to race. "What...what kind of question is that?"

"Have you?"

"I...I don't..."

The boy took a folded paper from the back of the book, flattening it onto the table and slid it toward her. "Because I think you may be my mom."

A roaring filled her ears as she stared at the paper from the table, her stomach flipping and flopping. A domain name bolded at the top of it, but the information below was indisputable. Hospital in Boston, her name, her damned name. She dared not look at him.

"Ruby, I'm gonna need another cocoa over here. And this time, please make it Irish."

* * *

David had taken his leave of the pawn shop quickly after the discussion with Gold to make his way about the town. He went to the garage first, catching the owner first thing in the morning; he did not recognize the man's face, except to know him as Mr. Tillman, the man who had towed them the night before.

"Hello again, Mr. Shepherd." He smiled, wiping the oil from his hands before offering it to David. "I suppose you want to know about your vehicle?"

"If you're able to tell me anything. I understand it's still early, and you only got the car last night. I was more interested in recovering some things I left last night."

"You are correct, sir. I'm going to need a bit more time, I have some other cars to look at before yours, but you're more than welcome to your belongings, of course." He showed David where the car was and excused himself, insisting that he needed to get to work. David apologized for taking his time up, and hurried to the SUV.

In the light of day, the damage was more evident. The side was dented and scratched, cracked glass and a bent tire at an awkward angle. He grimaced; hopefully it wasn't totaled-they may be stuck in Storybrooke whether Emma liked it or not.

He removed the sword, still in it's sheath and wrapped in linen from his hiding spot, along with a few of Emma's things she had haphazardly included. He quickly returned to his room at Granny's, quelling his desire once more to find his wife, knowing that the sight of the new stranger in town carrying around a large, unidentified object may cause for more gossip than he would prefer. He was interested to note that it was evident Emma had not been by to check on the car, as Mr. Tillman hadn't mentioned it. He wondered where she was off to, if she was back at the rooms or still making friends. He tried to ignore his concern; he knew he had nothing to fear of Mr. Gold, as it seemed he needed them in some way, but he still had not encountered Regina, and he worried about what may happen if she came across Emma while he wasn't around.

She wasn't in when he returned, but he pushed away any immediate concerns. She was, after all, a grown and capable woman, and she had said she wanted to explore the town. Still, when he heard the door next to his own room close, he was pulled away from the book he was reading, leaping from the bed as a feeling of a relief washed over him. He hurried to her room, knocking on the door.

"Come on in."

He followed her lead, and was curious to find her sitting by her window, staring out across the lawn. Her tone had sounded flat and dazed, as if she were barely paying attention to him or her surroundings. He smiled and sat in an armchair across from the bed.

"How was your afternoon? Did you get to explore a little?" He asked. "I was a little worried when you weren't around earlier."

She turned her head to him with a soft smile. "Yeah, sorry. I just was walking around. I kind of...I like this little town." She turned back to the window. "It's full of surprises."

"Surprises?" He asked, brow furrowing. "Emma, is everything alright? Did anything happen, while I was gone?"

She sighed, rising from the window side and walking around her room. She fiddled with her hands, a gesture he knew reflected her nerves, and his gaze followed her back and forth until she stopped with a great burst of air emitting from her lips.

"I guess, I should just say it. You know the Mayor? The one that creepy guy warned us about?"

His heart began to race at the idea that maybe they had met; his mind spun as he began to scramble to come up with a plan, in case she had realized who Emma was, in case she began to realize he would also be here. "Regina Mills, yes. What about her?"

"She has a kid. A son. I met him today, at the diner after you left and..." She shook her head, a half laugh escaping her lips. "Apparently, he's adopted and...he's really pretty sure that he's my son, too."

* * *

AN: like i said, not overly pleased with this, but I really want to get this moving; i hate keeping people waiting for chapters, so I apologize if it's rushed. I have some fun stuff planned/already drafted for the next two or three chapters, so stay tuned :) and don't you worry, i'm pretty sure snow will turn up...eventually :)


	5. The Skies I'm Under

By the time Sunday morning rolled around, David was abuzz with energy. The bombshell about the mayor's son had been significant enough and he knew, deeply within him, that it could be no coincidence; something had brought them here. Something had brought the boy here.

"Henry." Emma had informed him with a small smile. "He seems like a good kid. Healthy, smart. Too smart, really, and a crazy imagination. But I guess he's about...well, 11 now." She crossed her hands over her flat abdomen, as if remembering when he once resided there. "I just...I mean, it's cool. But..." She waved her hands around before running them through her blonde tresses with a sigh. She sat down on her bed. "I don't want him to think this is something that it isn't, you know? He doesn't seem to be getting along with his mom, and I don't want him to think..."

"I'm sure he doesn't." David piped in with a chuckle. "Maybe he's just excited." He paused, staring at her fidgeting fingers and worried eyes. "Hey, how about you and I just do something tomorrow and get away from this? I hear there are some stables out on the edge of town with some great trails. We can ride a bit and explore. Wouldn't that be fun?"

Her mouth had twitched into a smile and so, brighter and earlier than David had been looking forward to, Emma appeared at his door in a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm already packed!" She exclaimed, holding up a small duffel shaped bag. "You think we'll find anything good today?"

He grinned back, knowing that these woods hid many beautiful scenic treasures to behold; he wondered if it had changed much with the journey from the enchanted land to this one of non-magical influence. "Oh, I don't know. I have a feeling there's a few."

They didn't speak of Henry, or the Mayor, or of much about the quaint little town all day. Granny was kind enough to give them a ride to the stable yard, telling them to call the diner and that she or Ruby would come get them at the end of the day. David had rebuffed the offer, saying she was too kind, too hospitable, and when she had told him to deal with it, he had insisted she take the fifty dollar bill he pressed into her palm. He wouldn't have her doing this sort of charity for him, not when she had a business to run, and certainly not when she had not a clue what it meant to him. Hopefully, one day soon, he would get to face her wrath when she remembered and scolded him for it. But for now, she would take was she was owed.

The stable hand was a nice young man David did not recognize, though he smiled and winked as he led them to the horses.

"Don't get too many people out here to ride," The boy said, introducing them to the horses in the stables. "Not too many strangers, either. Welcome to town."

"It's a beautiful little town." Emma complimented politely, brushing her hand against the nose of one of the mare's. David' face softened at the sight of the speckled thing nuzzling into her hand. He was soon pulled from his thoughts at the sound of a loud, irritated whinny, and the appearance of a large white head with a silver mane, his head tossing to and fro as he hollered. His heart skipped in his chest; could it be?

"Aye, it seems Odie's taken a shining to you, Mr. Shepherd." The boy commented with a wink. "Strange, that one. Won't usually let anyone near him."

"Ah..." David shook his head, forcing a lump down his throat. He wondered what the young stable hand meant by the name. "Sometimes you just need to find a kindred spirit. Isn't that right...Odie?" He said it in the most cajoling tone as he walked over, placing a hand under the stallion's jaw and brushing his nose with the other. The horse snorted on him, a burst of snot and hot air, as if in response and he couldn't help but chuckle. Odie was not his name, and Astor wasn't fond at all of the supplied moniker. He leaned into stroke the horses neck, tilting his head upward and whispering soothingly into his ear. As he mentioned his true name, the horse pawed at the ground, seemingly content at last, pulling back with an affectionate nip at his master's shoulder.

Emma's curious stare didn't escape him, so he cleared his throat and pushed back, the relief at having something recognize him, other than the imp, after so long affecting him more deeply than he had expected. "You going to ride her?"

Emma's gaze stayed on him a bit longer before turning back to the horse. "Yeah...yeah, I think I'm going to." She smiled softly as the horse nuzzled into her palm deeper, eager for the opportunity to be allowed free. "He said her name was Tiny."

"Well, she looks well suited for you. Let's get them saddled and ready to go. We've a long day ahead."

He took her up and out onto the trails almost immediately, leading the way with a map supplied by the stable hand but quickly veering off course. He took her to the toll bridge first, disappointed at the change to some of the scenery-the depth wasn't quite what it had been, but the surroundings seemed similar. After that, they began to go up into the foothills and bluffs, even if she began to object; the curse had not changed these forests much, and it seemed with every step Astor took, an old part of David was awakened within that made him feel young and invigorated once more.

They came to a clearing soon after a narrow pass around a steep climb-wherein Emma had been quite nervous, but had been helped along by his steady hand-and they settled there for a late lunch before they would turn back. As he fixed the horses to their spots in the brush, Emma laid out a blanket with the food and plopped down with a sigh. Ahead of them lay the bay, and the mountainous scenery, the sun barely over the tips of it as it neared the beginning of it's descent. As she tore into her sandwich she sighed; it was truly gorgeous here. She had no idea the ranges extended this far.

"Pretty, isn't it?" He asked as he settled down as well. She nodded, swallowing quickly as she propped herself on an elbow.

"It really is." She breathed in deeply, enjoying the fresh clean air as it filled her lungs. "I'm pretty okay with getting stranded here for the week."

David grinned. "And Henry has nothing to do with that at all?"

She slid a look at him out of the corner of her eye. "Dad, he's a good kid, but I think if anything, we should both just steer clear. His mom seems, from what he said, pretty powerful and intimidating...Mr. Gold did too. Plus..." She took another bite of her sandwich, mulling over her next few words. He would find out eventually, she knew, especially if the kid came around. But this was such a beautiful day, and she didn't want to bring up such a harried past if she didn't have to.

"Plus what?"

She shook her head. "He's just a very...creative kid. He seems to think we came here by fate." She rolled her eyes. "That we're supposed to be here...to save everyone, from his mom. Who's apparently evil." She stressed the last word, blinking rapidly. "He has issues with her, obviously."

David steadied his reaction to her words. He forced a chuckle, then reached for his own bit of food, a pounding beginning at his temple. Was Regina doing something to him? Had Regina been cruel, or unfair, had she trapped him? He supposed, the boy growing up in such an environment where no one else aged would be difficult...but evil? Was there something he knew?

He supposed, he thought to himself, that he was going to have to do a little bit of reconnaissance of Henry on his own.

* * *

Ever since his memories had flooded back to him only a few nights before, Gold had been scrambling to get details and information in his own mind straight and narrow, so that he knew to understand exactly what was going on in the town of Storybrooke. So when the clock started to move again of it's own accord, and he had seen Henry Mills leave the diner right before Emma Shepherd did just the day before, he wasn't terribly surprised that the bell above his doorway rang clearly on that Sunday afternoon, the insipid sound of clicking heels drawing him from the back room.

"Madam Mayor," He greeted smoothly. "Is there something I can help you with today?"

She seemed tightly wound, her movements mechanical and the wide smile on her face predatory. "Mr. Gold, good morning to you. I was just wanting to stop in and check with you-I've heard that we've had some...displaced guests find their way into town. Have you had the chance to get to speak with them at all yet?"

He smiled back courteously. "Ah, you must mean Mr. Shepherd and his daughter. I have, aye. A very nice family indeed; Mr. Shepherd was just in here yesterday, in fact, looking at some of the otherworldly artifacts I carry; he was quite taken with them." He grinned wider as she seemed to flinch a bit, but pressed on. "Unfortunately, I hear tell they may be stuck here for some time. Their car was quite damaged in the rainstorm the other night."

He took pleasure in seeing her battle to keep the cheerful facade in place. "Well, I suppose...that's all well and good. Granny's could use some patronage. I suppose I will be stopping in soon to introduce myself and greet them to our town. I always want to ensure the people here are well taken care of."

"Ah, I think Mr. Shepherd would much prefer to meet you on his terms, as it were. They're very busy, I understand, exploring the town. It seems as if he's already friends with everyone he meets, really." He smirked at her as she wandered around the store, spinning at a globe at the end of his counter. "I'm sure if you rang him up, he'd be more than happy to meet with you though. He's quite the...charming, fellow."

She spun at the description, eyes narrowed in fury. Her body had grown ridged, her stance at shoulder width as she squared off against him, and she crossed her arms tightly in front of himself. "That's...an interesting way to describe someone."

Gold shrugged. "Not very. Wait until you meet him. I'm sure he's quite interested in getting to know you." He stood up straighter himself, wiping his hand across the glass with a roll of his fingertips. "Now, Madam Mayor, if you'll excuse me, I have some things to take care of in the back of the store."

Apparently, she did not feel finished. She started toward the counter, a pointed finger raised up as if to raise another question. "Mr. Gold, I was still wondering..."

"If you _please_, Madam Mayor." He replied sharply, and suddenly, she seemed frozen in place. Her jaw dropped ever so slightly, and her complexion paled, causing her blood red lips to stand out even more than before. "It was good to see you today, Mayor Mills. Do drop in again soon."

With the last word, he spun on his heel and disappeared behind the cloth that separated the back room from the outside, glee bubbling in his chest as he allowed a soft laugh to escape. _28 years_, he mused to himself. _28 years and finally, once more, I have the upper hand._

* * *

"Did you enjoy your riding earlier today, Ms. Shepherd?" Granny's sweet voice pulled Emma from her thoughts of Henry and of her father, and of all the things that seemed just a bit off about this little town. The interaction earlier with her father and the horse at the stables had thrown her. She had seen many interactions between a master and it's steed and if she did not know better, the sweet camaraderie the two appeared to share was eerily similar to what many riders would take years to foster. Not to mention the automatic rapport her father seemed to have with the locals; Granny and Ruby had been one thing when they were flirting with him, but even the men smiled and shook his hand and he just seemed to fall into easy conversation with him. He had always been a man who took a bit of warming up to-not so much in a bad way, but because he was somewhat socially reticent and very formal. Apparently, they had left that version of her father back home; over the past few days, he had seemed positively glowing. Now back from her ride and freshly showered, she had stopped in to grab some dinner for the two of them, David back at the hotel washing up after their long day. She smiled softly at the woman, tucking strands of her wet hair behind her ear.

"We did. We found some beautiful areas to go hiking later as well. It really is deceptively vast, for how small the town seems."

"Well, I'm happy to hear that. I'll have your food right out for you."

"Thanks Granny." She smiled at the woman as she nodded and turned to head into the kitchen, leaving Emma to lean forward and play on her phone while she waited for the order. As it was a late Sunday afternoon, the diner was pretty much empty except for a few patrons scattered throughout-most notably, as man having a cuppa by himself in a booth a few down from where she stood. So immersed in her own business, she didn't even hear as he came up behind her.

"Yea went riding today, eh? How'd you like it?" The soft lilt caused her smile to widen as she turned to face the sheriff, who grinned back. He stood behind her, hands shoved into his pockets as he teased her a bit more. "I've never been one for the beasts myself. Make me jumpy."

"Ah, well, I grew up around the beasts, as you'd describe them and you know, they're not half bad." She turned back to the counter with a smile for Granny as she handed her two bags full of their meals before turning back to the sheriff. She regarded him pointedly, tilting her head as she gave him a once-over before speaking once more. "You know, you could say hello instead of just sneaking up behind me and listening in on my conversations."

"Ah, but where is the fun in that?" He rounded back, leaning against a bar stool as she settled in front of him. "And how is our fair town treating you then, Ms. Shepherd? Everything to your liking so far?"

Henry's face formed in her mind but she dismissed it quickly, forcing a smile. "Everyone's been really nice, and welcoming. The trail ride this morning was gorgeous. My dad seems to like it to. It's not Augusta, but you know, we make the best of it." She shrugged and nodded at him as she made her away around where he stood and headed towards the front door. The Sheriff was certainly a welcome face in the town, but she was tired, and hungry, and her father was waiting back at the bed and breakfast.

"Well, I'm happy to hear your being stranded isn't a total loss." He replied with smile, following her closely. "Any chance you'd let me show you around a bit more? If you'll be around for much longer."

He knew it was forward, and the expression she shot him when she looked back at him in a daze made him feel a little bit embarrassed about it, but Emma Shepherd was an enigma to him. Her father as well, really; he knew their presence had even unsettled Regina, who had inquired about them just the day before. He frowned a bit at the thought of her, but only fleetingly so as not to give Emma a wrong impression.

It wasn't just that Emma was new though. No, Emma was beautiful, seemed smart and quick with her words, and he felt like she could see through him, that she may know him in a way he couldn't explain or understand. There was almost something even magical about her, he thought, the way that he just wanted to be around her when he saw her, the way he wanted to just talk with her about anything. A night out with her, and only her, would be the best way to explore that.

She seemed to look him up and down, as if contemplating an answer. "Sheriff, are you asking me out on a date?"

"Depends. Are you interested?"

She smirked at him. "I think...I may be able to be persuaded." She started walking toward the diner door with a laugh. "I'm staying at Granny's. Give me a call and we'll discuss it."

She could feel him watching her as she walked out the door and down toward the B & B. A kid and an attractive guy wanting to take her out to dinner was something she was definitely not expecting when she had planned this little getaway but she supposed she'd take it; especially the latter.

She knocked on her father's door after climbing to the second floor and offered him the bag of food.

"Smells good." He said with a smile, a raggedy old shirt on over some old jeans that were well worn. He pulled the door open further. "I've set as good of a table as I can, and there's not much on tv, but it's better than nothing..."

"Sounds good. I'll be right over, I want to change too. After riding all day, I want to get into my sweats early."

"I'll leave the door cracked then."

She returned to her own room, bustling into the bathroom quickly and removing her contacts as she put on a pair of glasses and pinned her hair off her neck. She hadn't ridden in awhile and she was starting to get a bit sore from the day, so when she peeled off her jeans and pulled on her very comfy pajama pants, an involuntary sigh of contentment breezed through her lips.

She grabbed a bottle of water, intent on hurrying over to enjoy her burger when she saw, on the nightstand, a blinking red light. Her neck warmed at the sight, her curiosity piqued. Had Henry called her? She had told him her room number, against her better judgement, as he had seemed overly excited about showing her something after school on that coming Monday. Lowering herself onto the bed, she pushed the button to listen.

"So, I know you're supposed to wait like, what, three days or something before you call a girl when she gives you her number...which I know, you didn't, but I assume telling me you were at Granny's was kinda the same thing. I'm not really one to follow the norm though. What I mean to say is...well, Ms. Shepard, I was calling about getting together so I could show you more of the town. Specifically, some of the best places to eat. Maybe Friday?"

He rambled on a bit more, drawing a smile to Emma's face as he left his number in case she wanted to call back-which she most definitely would. Rising from the bed with a laugh, she made her way out the door and into her father's room. He looked up at her, a mouthful of pasta keeping him from commenting on her suddenly peppy demeanor. His eyebrow raised in question and she shrugged.

"I just think I'm going to enjoy this town a lot more than I expected to." She sat down across from him at the little makeshift table. "Now gimme my burger, I'm starving!"

* * *

The relief that filled David the next morning when Emma expressed her desire to just stay in and read was easy enough to hide. He nodded, agreeing with her; he knew that she needed this every now and then, a few hours alone to decompress from the week-especially given the week this had been so far. She told him she would be out later though, that she promised to meet up with Henry after school to have a talk about something he wanted to show her. Knowing he would be able to get out and explore with few questions, David decided that it was about time to maybe get to know his grandson-even if it was from far away.

He had his breakfast at the diner, something that was quickly becoming commonplace. Red was there, discussing how the weekend had been, how she and some doctor were seeing each other, but he was kind of boring, and just some fun. That there was also a mechanic, but she wasn't sure how she felt about him. A bemused David nodded along, supplying questions where he knew she wanted them. He chalked up such candor to being a new face in this small town, but he also wondered, and had to hope, that maybe a part of Red could sense the trust that once had bound them as such friends, once upon a time.

He timed his visit to the school around 11:30, when he assumed recess would be, and settled in behind the chain link fence that enclosed the playground, hiding himself amongst the trees. He didn't want to meet Henry before Emma suggested it, but his curiosity was quickly growing stronger and he very much wanted to know exactly what Emma meant about Henry believing it was fate that had brought them here; that his mother was evil. Could Henry very well know about the curse? He supposed it wasn't too crazy of a thought; after all, being in a town for 10 years where you were the only one who aged, where all your playmates stayed the same age and were left behind each and every year, would surely give the boy more than a few questions.

It was a bit longer than he had expected but the children spilled out onto the yard soon enough, laughter and shouts filling the air around him. He allowed his gaze to linger a bit on each, frowning as he tried to discern which one may be his grandson, but coming up empty. Emma had mentioned he had shaggy brown hair and brown eyes, but there were many of those children running around, chasing one another. He was never going to be able to figure this out, not without asking for him outright.

That was, he now saw, until a boy separated himself from the group, wandering over to the swings by himself, a large, leather bound book under his arms. He looked a little tired, a little bored; when he settled himself on the swing, he stared out at the children and visibly sighed, shaking his head as he opened the large book and set himself to reading.

David pushed forward, unable to stop himself, allowing his fingers to curl around the metal fence. His heart began to race. This was the boy! It was not only the physical attributes that proved it to him, but the look on his face as he stared at the other children. The other children who were so blissfully unaware, content in their ignorance, so vastly different than the hopeless exasperation from the boy's expression on the swing set. Henry knew something was wrong in Storybrooke, and he knew why, but he couldn't fix it.

Until now, that is.

David gritted his teeth in frustration. The sad look on Henry's face made his face heat with anger; he could not be angry at Emma for her own decision made years ago, but if only, if only she had felt she could come to him! He would not be this miserable! He wouldn't be stuck at the hands of that woman.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he could not hear the footsteps treading on the leaves behind him, and was only pulled from them as he heard a throat clear quite loudly-so loudly, in fact, Henry 30 feet away heard and turned to look. His eyes grew wide as he recognized the man from a distance, but he did not move an inch, except to wrap his hands around the chains of the swing. David didn't move, afraid to turn to confront whoever was behind him, and let his gaze drop to the ground in front of him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his mind racing as he tried to come up with something to explain what he was doing there.

"Excuse me for interrupting, but I must say, can I help you? Or do you make it a regular thing to be hanging out in back of elementary schools and staring at children on the playground?"

* * *

_AN: So, I'm REALLY sorry it's been so long; with the holidays, and work (mostly work; promotions are AWESOME but holy balls at the increase in work lol. 10 hour days are not conducive to inspiration, at least for this story, sadly to say). But, i've been wanting to get through this part for awhile, mostly this last part. Guesses anyone? You're all smart people, I'm sure you'll guess right :) HOPEFULLY the next chapter will be up within the next week or two, but I can't make any promises...wish for my muse! and omg, how bad is the winter hiatus gonna suck? That one week for the AMA's was HORRIBLE. I hope you all are having a wonderful holiday though, wherever you are :) take it easy, and leave me love (or hate, i'm cool with constructive criticism lol)_

_also. i know I said all the chapter titles would come from the one Mumford song "I Will Wait" but that was before their fantastic album Babel came out, so there will be different lyrics, from different songs, included.  
_


	6. Wait For Now

AN: AN UPDATE! SHE LIVES! You're all very clever, figuring out our surprise guest ;) I apologize for the time between updates-holidays and all. Also, i'm not going to lie, i've been very motivated recently by 1) the show returning and 2) apparently, a couple of people have rec'd this on tumblr and i've gotten a LOT more feedback for it recently. Kinda lights a fire under your ass. My muse has been awakened, just enough, and just so happens, most inconveniently at 2 am. Would you also believe, the last like two chapters are pretty much done? I just gotta get to them. I'm doing my best. Oh the finish i have planned ;) The next chapter has been started...but I always say that, and then it's two months later, so I promise, I will try to be better about that. I think that the show is partially to blame for that; all these other plot bunnies keep coming up. Swan Thief is a recent one...so if you know any really good ones, let me know (my current fav on is _Stardust_ by Faux Pax-it's SO GOOD)

* * *

His fingers curled around the chain link fence, sweat beading on his forehead almost immediately. It was a tone of voice he was all too familiar with, a tone of voice he both dreaded and had long missed, one that often had him, in his past, backtracking as he tried to figure out what he had done wrong, and what he would need to do to fix it. Because he so desperately wanted to fix things for this voice, especially now, especially here. He stilled himself for a few moments, the silence deafening as memories collided with his rational thought, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he fought to keep tears from his eyes

_"You're going to hang that there, like that?" The tone was indicative of her disapproval and from his spot on his stool, he still smiled, his hand never leaving the picture's frame. He didn't even bother to turn._

_"Unless you wanted it elsewhere, my dear."_

He closed his eyes as he willed his racing heart to slow and swallowed hard once more before he steeled himself to turn. She would not know him, he knew, would not react to him in a way he would wish so greatly, so he knew he had to fight hard to hide any form of involuntary disappointment that may grace his features. He had waited so long to hear her sweet voice once more, and somehow dug within himself to turn slowly, keeping his eyes to the ground as he prepared himself to face what he knew would be a stony and severe gaze.

"Are you going to look at me as you try to explain why you were leering at my students?"

His head snapped up, his cheeks turning bright red as the statement removed any ambivalence he may have had at the encounter. "I was not leering at them! Henry Mills is...well, it's difficult to explain..."

He let his words trail off, her cross expression fixating him. Her hair was shorter than it had been years before, but everything else was the same. Her smooth porcelain skin had nary a blemish, her beautiful green eyes wide and bright, although a tad bit more irritated than they'd been the last time he'd kissed her. It took everything in him not to rush to her, to grab her in his arms and spin her around with a kiss, but he knew the reaction to that-_especially _given where he had found himself now-would not be conducive to getting her to speak with him. He hoped, somehow, that maybe a kiss would break the spell, but without knowing for sure at this juncture, he would wait for a bit; this curse was a greater, darker power than he had ever heard spoken of in all the realms, and would surely take more than just he and Snow to break the spell, especially given Rumple's eery premonition that it would be Emma's destiny to do so.

His beautiful Snow White. He doubted that's what she would answer to now, though. Her crossed arms reflected her hostility, and he held his hands up in defense. "Henry is...my grandson." He explained shortly. This seemed to surprise her. Her eyes narrowed, her expression darkening at the mention.

"You're...the mayor's father? I thought he was dead."

The laugh that escaped sounded like one mixed with a cough, if not a bit hysterical. "Oh, God, _no_." He shook his head. "Birth, grandfather. My...my daughter and I, very coincidentally, have found ourselves here rather by accident and Henry seems to believe she is his mother. He found her online, or something, I don't really know about technology, but the most important thing, is that I _was not_leering at your students."

He was tripping over his words, and he knew, had to be making a fool of himself as he sputtered along. However, by the look on her face, it seemed to endear himself to her. She bit her lips, and uncrossed her arms. "Oh, I see. Well then, mystery grandpa. I'm Mary Margaret Blanchard, Henry's teacher." She held out her hand. He muddled for a moment before reaching out slowly to take it briefly and his heart raced as he saw her flinch at the clasp of them, as if shocked by a current. She stepped back, obviously flustered.

"I have to get back inside..." She stumbled over her words, backtracking toward the main entrance of the school. "I would advise against trying to spy on the students, however, from now on. I would hate to have to call the Sheriff on you."

She was gone before he could call out to her, and his concern heightened at her frenzy. He wasn't trying to panic her or get her to leave; on the contrary, after so long without seeing her face, he wanted only for her to stand there, even chastise him if it meant hearing her voice. But instead, she disappeared between the double doors, throwing a glance back at him with an unreadable expression on her face.

He supposed that was a good sign at least. He wondered what had spooked her so.

"That stinks."

David jumped at the small voice, unexpected and more matter of fact than he would've expected from a child. He spun to meet the eyes of his grandson peering up at him through the twisted diamonds of the fence, his small hands wrapped around the chain almost as his own were only minutes before. He couldn't help but smile.

"What stinks?" David asked, knowing he should walk away, but somehow unable to do so. The discussion he'd had with Emma had been limited regarding Henry. His daughter was uncomfortable discussing her feelings that left her vulnerable, even with him, especially when it came to the child she had given up years before. But she had been clear about one thing-Stay clear of him. At least until she could get the situation figured out. He knew she would be furious if she found out he was here, talking with him.

"Ms. Blanchard. You wanted to talk with her more." He squinted up at the older man through the fence. "Do you think she's pretty?"

David choked out a laugh. "Uh...I think that's...that's a very good question..."

"Are you really my grandpa?"

The breath escaped his lungs so that he could not give an answer. He hadn't been loud, how the hell had the kid heard that? "Um...I...well..."

"You're Emma's dad. I saw you at the diner. So you'd be my grandpa."

_Oh. Yes. That made more sense._He smiled. "Guilty, I suppose. You can call me David."

"David, huh? That's interesting." Henry hugged his book closed to his chest now, a small smile of satisfaction on his face. "I'm Henry."

"So i've heard." He crouched down to the boy's level, holding out his hand through the fence. "It's nice to meet you Henry."

After he took it, the boy relaxed back, letting his weight rest on his back leg. "Are you guys staying?"

Slightly taken aback, David smiled softly. Emma was right; he was inquisitive, very to the point, and apparently not at all afraid of pushing too hard. "I honestly don't know Henry. We're kind of stuck right now, because of our car but-"

He was cut off by the shrill of the school bell, drawing both their attention to the building. The children on the yard dropped their toys slowly and begrudgingly, walking back slowly to the doors as if to squeeze every second of their freedom from these last few minutes. Henry looked back up at him.

"Gotta go. It was nice to meet you. Will I see you again?"

David grinned. "I'm sure we will. But hey, do me a favor...don't mention this to your mom. Either of them. Not just yet; Emma doesn't exactly know I'm here."

The boy gazed at him questioningly but nodded. He felt a brief flash of shame in asking the boy to lie to his mother's, for him, but he rationalized it away with the idea that there was something bigger going on here than Emma could understand or accept; this was for the good of everyone. He raised a hand slowly, waving at the kid as he took off toward the building to join the other kids.

He stayed there for a bit, ignoring the teacher's warning as too many thoughts raced in his head. It would not be so easy, he knew. It couldn't be;  
there would be much more to do before the curse could break. He played a fantasy over and over in his head, ten different ways of kissing Snow, of telling her the truth, of getting her to remember. Of a sure kiss against his lips and her warm arms around his neck, of happy tears. Of Emma finally meeting her mother. Of being happy.

But he knew that a kiss wouldn't work, and would only serve to frighten her. He knew, though, that there was no way he would be able to stay away; it was just too much to expect or to ask of himself after so long. He would need to work at it too; she had hurried away from, having been spooked by whatever feeling their handshake had triggered. She would be wary of him, most likely, a stranger in town who's only impression for her had been to be spying on children. He shook his head, mentally kicking himself for this course of action. He wanted to be with her, even if just as a friend, just until something changed.

Even then, he worried; the years had been kind to him, but he was still going to be nearly 30 years her senior. He had raised their daughter. What if he had changed? What if she couldn't love him any longer?

Movement from a window facing the field caught his eye, and as he squinted to bring the figure into focus, he saw her slim frame standing in front of it, her arms moving as she spoke to the children. He smiled to himself; gesturing such as that indicated she was excited about something. He wondered if it was a characteristic that had lingered in her persona as Mary Margaret.

He cursed inwardly as the figure turned, wishing deeply there was a tree he could hide behind. She frowned as she saw him, her arms pausing on the string to lower the blinds, but it quickly faded. It was a foggy look of confusion, of wonder, and of something he wasn't sure of. Her lips tweaked for a moment, something between a purse and a cheek bite, before she let go of the string and walked away back toward the front of the room, the blinds still open. His heart leapt; everything that that look may have been, it certainly wasn't dislike.

Maybe it was hope.

Jiminy's words of long ago came back to him. _"How can she trust who you are, when she doesn't even know who she is?"_

The answer was obvious. He was just going to have to make her fall in love with him all over again. He had done it twice before, he decided. How hard could it be do once more?

* * *

He laid on his bed later in the afternoon, having spent the better part of an hour staring at his ceiling, silent in thought. The last glance of her face remained at the forefront of his mind, the mixed feelings and confusion alighting a feeling inside of him that fueled a desire to stay here. A desire that Mr. Tillman at the garage had only given fruit to.

He had stopped by the garage on his way back from the school for an update on the car. Whatever part it was that they needed, it was apparently back ordered for a few weeks. The mechanic had given him and Emma a car for the time being, but very apologetically explained that because they were a single small business, it wasn't like they could leave and drop the car at a chain. They would need to stay until the part arrived. David had assured him it was alright, that staying in Storybrooke would not be such a tall order. Hopefully, he thought to himself, a few weeks was all they would need.

He had lost track of time when the sound of Emma's door closing pulled him from his bed. He jumped up, quick to go see where she was off to. He needed to let her know about the rental they had been given, about how they needed to stay for a bit longer. He caught her before she descended to the lobby, jogging over to her down the hall. She raised an eyebrow at his urgency.

"Where's the fire, pops?"

He smirked at her, nodding a bit. "You're very funny. Look, I wanted to just check where you were headed, and see when you were gonna be back. Can a father not be curious about that?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm going to hang out with Henry for a bit. I promised him I'd go check something out near the waterfront with him, after school. He wants to show me some book of his." She shrugged. "I'll try and be back around 6, if that works?"

"Yeah, that's good. I'll wait to eat until then."

"Okay well. If that's it..."

"Ah, not quite." He fished the keys from his pocket. "Mr. Tillman said the part for the truck is back ordered and it's gonna be a few more weeks. But he gave us a car to get around town in. Here." He tossed them to her and she grabbed them with a frown.

"We can't just drop it off back home?"

"No, since they're not a chain." He shrugged. "It's outside; just a white pickup, but it's better than hoofin' it everywhere. I'll walk you down and show you."

When they hit the landing and made it outside, he watched her drive away in contentment. She seemed to be fine with the news of their extended stay, and she seemed almost looking forward to hanging out with Henry. He hoped the boy would keep quiet about their discussion. The last thing he wanted was for Emma to get upset at him.

Lost in thought, he was only pulled from it as a black sports car pulled up to the curb, its windows tinted so he could not see the driver inside.

The back passenger window rolled down to reveal the top of a man's face. He was met with a blank stare.

"Mr. Shepherd, I assume?"

David felt a slight sense of alarm at the man's question. They had been in town a few days, and he was sure it had drawn some unwanted attention. He shifted awkwardly, taking a step away from the vehicle. "You assume correct. Is there something I can do for you, Mr..."

"Glass. Sidney Glass. I'm the mayor's _personal_assistant." He coughed before continuing. "She has requested a meeting with you. Mayor Mills prides herself in taking an interest in all of Storybrook's citizens, and would like to get to know you a bit."

His heart began to race. An interest in all the citizens; _I bet she does._"Well, I'm really not a citizen. Just passing through here until the car is fixed."

"Even so. She loves to hear what people think of the town. Please, join me."

David swallowed hard. "Mr. Glass, I really appreciate the concern, but we're very content with the town, and I have my own things to do today."

He spun on his heel quickly, heading back toward the bed and breakfast in a hurry as he heard the car door open behind him.

"Mr. Shepherd, I really do insist. Unless, you'd like me have your daughter speak with her instead."

The man's tone was light and non-threatening, and if he had to guess, David would suppose he had no idea what Regina was asking. But David understood it, loud and clear. He stopped in his tracks, clenching and unclenching his fists for a moment before turning back.

"I don't have very long. I need to be back around 5 or my daughter will know something is wrong."

"Why would anything be wrong, sir?" The assistant smiled, a bit more smug than David would've liked, and he realized, even if the man did not totally understand the gravity of the situation at hand, he was certainly all in Regina's pocket, through and through.

The ride to the Mayor's office on the hill was a short but tense one. Glass asked a few innocent questions-how their stay had been, were they enjoying their time at Granny's, had they experienced anything in particular that they very much enjoyed-all of which David replied to with short, clipped statements. When they pulled up to the office, a man in black opened the passenger side door at the curb and Sidney followed David in the double doors, directing him to the Mayor's office on the second floor. When they arrived, closing the door behind him, she sat with her back to them, facing the wall.

"Madam Mayor, Mr. Shepherd is here to see you." Sidney spoke, a self-congratulatory smirk upon his face. David almost felt sorry for him; he wore an expression of desperation on his face, of a man absolutely enamored by the object of their affection in front of him...but David knew, she could love no man anymore. She proved it so in her following words.

"Leave us, Mr. Glass. I would like to speak to Mr. Shepherd, alone."

She did not thank him, nor praise him. He did as she asked though, with a slight delay and a crestfallen expression. When the door clicked behind him, David steeled himself straight.

_Do not react_, he told himself. _Act as if you don't know who she is. Act as if you have no idea what is happening._

He had no idea if she knew who he was; he anticipated it, yes. But he didn't know if she was sure of how the curse would've affected him, and Emma. She may not have even known where they had escaped to; maybe something had gone wrong with the wardrobe, sent them to another land. He needed to pass off that Mr. Shepherd and his daughter truly were hapless tourist's who had lost their way. If it were anything else, he feared what she may do...even without magic.

"Mr. Shepherd." She rose from her chair, her tone even and a little smug. She turned to face him, and he swallowed hard, mentally forcing himself not to react at all. He let his chin raise in acknowledgement, but he kept his fist from clenching. For the first time in almost 30 years, he beheld the  
sight of the Evil Queen Regina.

She slunk around her desk, wearing a form fitting black dress and stiletto heels that commanded attention at every click on her feet. She made her way to a cabinet of bottles where she pulled something that looked like a half empty bottle of scotch and lifted it in his direction. "Would you like a drink?"

He cleared his throat. "Um, no ma'am. I was just...I was wondering...why you asked me here."

She regarded him very curiously then, as a student would a science project, trying to read a tell if he had one. She shrugged her shoulders, looking down as she poured herself a drink and picked up the glass, walking to the front of her polished desk and leaning against it. She held the glass by the rim, her wrist rotating as the amber liquor swished around inside. "I've heard of your predicament, I just wanted to meet with you. See if there was anything I could do to help."

"Mr. Tillman has been extremely helpful so far. Everyone in town has actually. There's a lot of good people here." He fought to keep his voice even and aloof, forcibly keeping himself from stalking over and accosting her. She smiled softly, again dipping her head so a stray strand fell in her face.

"Well, we pride ourselves on our hospitality." She looked up, eyes narrowed as she feigned deep thought. "You are not here alone, if I'm correct?"

He cleared his throat. "No, ma'am, I'm not. My daughter is with me."

Her brows arched. "Oh, yes. I believe I heard something about a new pretty young lady in town. Emma, is her name?"

His brow was growing warm, a thin sheen of sweat now settling there. "Yes, that's her." He swallowed. "Ma'am, I have some things I wanted to take care of, and I really should be getting back..."

"No Mrs. Shepherd, to speak of?" She inquired, raising a glass. "I did hope to get to know you a bit, Mr. Shepherd, as I do always want to know the most about those here in Storybrooke. Nothing too personal, of course. Just so that if I saw you on the street..."

"I am a single father, ma'am, I always have been."

He could tell she was fishing, that she wanted an answer. But it really wasn't her business; even if he were some run of the mill passerby, it wouldn't really be her business to intrude on his personal life. He needed to consider this an opportunity, though. A chance to fill her head with an idea that he really wasn't a threat; that Emma wasn't a threat. That their knowledge of the curse, of the citizens of Storybrooke's true identities were completely unknown. He bit his lip, shaking his head as her head seemed to rise a few inches, wary of his defensive tone.

"Um, well...not that it's really any of your business, but her mother..." His voice shook and he had to look away. "I don't really know. I assume she left."

"You...assume."

"I was found with Emma, when she was only a few hours old. I had no recollection of who or where I was. But I knew she was mine." His voice grew tough, and protective. "And I knew that I would protect her. No matter what. Look, Ms. Mills, I'm not sure why you're so curious of my family's history. It's a bit disconcerting that you, as a public official, would want to keep such tabs on the tourists in the town, but my life and my family's past is really not as exciting as one may think. I'd really like the opportunity to leave. My daughter and I have a dinner date, and I would hate to be late for it."

"I assure you, I didn't mean to pry. Just...natural curiosity, I suppose. I apologize if I were being rude." She set the glass down next to her, resting her hands on the table.

"It's all right." He clasped his hands in front of him in a clapping motion, biting down on his lower lip with a sigh. "If that's all, Ms. Mills? I really need to be going."

"Of course. Please, Mr. Shepherd, come see me if there is anything I can help you or your daughter with. I'm sure you're eager to be getting home."

He held her gaze for a moment after the offer left her lips. It was clear she was not completely placated, that she knew who he was but did not feel threatened enough to do something wicked. He merely nodded, swallowing hard, letting his gaze drop before he turned toward the door. "I appreciate that, Mayor. Have a good day."

She stared at the double doors of her office long after he retreated through them. He had seemed genuine enough; David had always been a bit impulsive when it came to the woman he loved, charging head long into conflict in such valiant effort to save her or anyone else he held dear, rather imprudently as it were. This man was much older; his hair was not thinning on his head, but it grew whiter at it's sides, and he had maintained a decent physique for all of his years.

And it seemed, developed some semblance of control. She rocked back and forth softly, controlling her growing anxiety. Did he truly not know who she was? Was there something of the outside world that had affected him adversely? Or had living so long in this reality driven him to believe his past may truly be all in his mind?

She couldn't take that chance. She needed to maintain her defense. While he may have been impulsive once, he was a young man no longer and had raised a child, one she knew he would do anything to keep safe-and that especially included lying. Henry's face floated into her thoughts, calming her nerves. Henry. How a child could change you...for the better, she knew now. She took a deep breath.

Yes, she would keep tabs on Snow's Charming. But until they provoked her, she would leave well enough alone. The curse was still intact, and even if Charming was telling a bald faced lie, there was no telling how prepared or unprepared Emma may be to face her. Without magic, she was not as strong of a force as she would've been back home but she still had power on her side as Mayor. She would defend her place in this town and prevent anything from going awry. And if something began to change from that...

Her gaze landed on the bowl of blood Red Delicious decorating the table off to the side of the room, her lips quirking into a smirk. Well, then, another course of action would need to be explored.

* * *

Emma was surprised that Henry was easily able to find her after the school bell rang. She had half expected to have to go into the school, maybe even meet this illustrious parent of his who seemed to hold something strange over the town. But when she arrived at the school, 15 minutes before the bell rang for dismissal, Henry was one of the first one's out, clutching the old leather bound storybook in his arms as his eyes scanned the curbside for Emma. When he saw her and the truck, he lit up and bolted to her.

"You came!" He exclaimed, and she couldn't help but grin back, his joy at seeing her warming her from within. She even reached out, ruffling his hair.

"I told you I would." She smiled. "You're sure this is okay with your mom?"

"She'll be at work for hours, she doesn't really care what I do."

Emma frowned at his words, spoken so easily and so obviously truthful, that it almost pained her. He obviously wanted for nothing; he wore nice clothes and had what he needed. But she thought of growing up with her single father; luckily she had had Roger and Ruth, home cooked meals when he couldn't be there, and someone always to tuck her in. But a mother as the mayor and no one else to speak of to stay with him...she wondered how commonplace it was for him to take care of himself most of the time. Not to accuse the woman of neglect; but what of loneliness?

He directed her to the side of the bay, where a rickety looking play set stood, a few different levels with makeshift turrets and a slide sat over looking the water. It was a crude imitation of what seemed to be a castle, if she had to guess. She pulled to the side and he leaped from the passenger seat, scurrying toward the structure as Emma followed closely. As he made himself at home on after climbing up to the first level, he didn't hesitate to flip through the storybook he always seemed to have on him, his mouth screwed as he shifted through it.

"Henry...you did tell her you were meeting me though, right?" Her brow furrowed. "I don't want to interfere or to intrude on your life or hers. She's your mom, and me being around you..."

It pulled him from his apparent search. "You don't want to hang out with me?"

"Henry, your mom might not like it." She pointed out. "And i'll take that as a no."

He shrugged. "I don't see why she has to know." He shook his head, pointing to the page. "Besides, like I said; she's the evil queen. And you're the one who's going to help break the curse. So if she knows you're in town, and you're helping me..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what?" She climbed up next him, sitting close on the platform of the play set. He had shown her the storybook in detail in the diner, but it had mostly been an exhibit of fairy tales, tweaked only a bit from the traditional tales she had grown up with. And while he had mentioned a curse, there had been no addressing that she was directly involved. She laughed a bit at him, sure he must have meant something else, but he looked at her with a stony expression. "Henry..."

"No, look." He flipped to the last page that illustrated a scene of a man with an infant in his arms, climbing into a large tree trunk, his face despondent and a sword tucked close to him. "See? That's your dad, Prince Charming, like what I told you from the diner. He was married to Snow White."

She felt like she was going to throw up at the mention of the well-known princess; she was not someone he had brought up yesterday. "Henry, I don't think this is a good idea." She spoke firmly, pushing the book away. "An active imagination is a wonderful thing to have..."

"It's not my imagination." He interrupted. "And it's true. She's my teacher, and she's trapped here. Don't you understand what that means?"

"It means you need help, kid." She jumped off the platform, shaking her head.

"She's your mo-" He began, but she spun around, her expression hard and angry.

"My mother abandoned my father and I, long before you were even a thought in existence, kid. She is gone. And she's never coming back. And that's the way it is. It's just me, and my dad, and that's the way I like it." She was breathing heavily, her outburst causing the boy to settle back a bit, his eyes wide. When she realized that she had startled him, she backtracked. "This is...this is something that, if you ever come across my dad, you don't mention it to him, you understand? You never tell him about your book, okay?"

"But why? If it's only my imagination?"

"Because my mom messed him up." She snapped. "And he's coped with it in, in really bad ways over the years. And I don't need this making things worse. All I want to do, is get our car fixed and go home. And I don't want him to hurt anymore." She shook her head. "I can't believe I'm talking to you about this."

"Emma, please-!"

"Henry, I don't want to talk about this anymore." She shook her head. "Come on. Let's get you home. I don't need your mom finding out about me by keeping you out without her permission."

The ride home was unpleasantly silent, and when she pulled up next to the large home of the Mayor, he lingered at the car door. "Are you mad at me?"

He asked softly, his head lowered. Emma felt her heart break a little. She shifted the truck into park and leaned over toward him.

"Henry, of course not. I love my dad. And I just don't want to see him hurt. We had a few fights over the years because of her, and I don't want to ever revisit them. My mother, whoever she was, didn't care about him, or me. Fairytales aren't real. I know things are rough with your mom, but it doesn't mean she's an evil witch. If she's tough on you, it's because she loves you. You should be thankful that you have a mom."

He was quiet for a few moments before he looked up at her, his eyes shining with tears. "You're wrong. You're wrong, and I'm going to prove it to you. Your mom loved you a lot, she was just keeping you safe. I'll show you."

The words did make her mad, but she just pursed her lips, steeling herself to remain calm. "Goodnight Henry. I'll see you soon."

He scowled, turning and running up the path to the front door of the mansion. She could hear the front door slam behind him in anger. Emma sighed, a small growl escaping as she settled back against the seat and hit the steering wheel.

Fairy tales and family drama; at least she had a night with the Sheriff to look forward to. Other than that, well...their jeep couldn't be fixed fast enough.

* * *

The cool fall air was a relief to him as he burst from the Mayor's office in a fury. Any restraint he had mustered during the exchange was now gone,  
and as he turned a corner of an alleyway, surreptitiously gazing around to ensure no one could see him, he brought his fist up to the cracked brick of the side of the building and slammed it into the side.

It hurt. It felt _good_.

He did it a few more times, his knuckles bleeding and feeling just a tad bit concerned he had broken his hand. But he felt better, the violent upheaval of emotions regarding the discussion he'd just walked away from fading with every blow. He frowned as he looked at his hand, now turning red from the strikes. He winced as he clenched the fist, shoving it in his pocket and walking back out toward the street. It was a few miles to the bed and breakfast at Granny's and he still had more than enough time to wash up before dinner with Emma. The walk would do him well, and he would still have a couple of hours to make this look like nothing. He would just tell her he fell; she wouldn't question it.

Mary Margaret Blanchard had been taking the same route home, at the same time, every day since she could remember. She would leave the school around a half hour after dismissal, packing up the papers and tests of the day to grade at home. She take her station wagon 2 blocks north to where Tony's sat on the corner, the take a left to stay en route to her apartment a little over 3 miles from there, passing by the central part of town. Granny's, the Library.

The Mayor's office.

She thought of the man she had encountered that afternoon. He didn't seem quite old enough to have a ten year old grandson; he didn't seem that old to her at all. And he'd had a nice smile. And pretty eyes. And a kind, jovial tone to his voice that she couldn't help...

She shook her head. Whatever was the matter with her?! He was an older man...a much older man, from what he had said. He was a stranger, who had been lurking around the grounds. Who knows if she could take his word for it? Who knew if he were telling the truth about Henry, and the Mayor and his daughter?

But his _smile_.

If she would've been so inclined, she would've smacked herself out of her thoughts.

And then she saw him.

Her breath caught in her throat for a moment as she stopped and stared. He was glowering deeply, obviously lost in thought as he stormed down the sidewalk toward Granny's. But it was cold, and it was still more than a mile and he was holding his hand strangely; at a closer, focused glance, it looked almost to be hurt. For reasons she couldn't quite defend, she pulled up beside him, never turning off her car as she leaned over and rolled the window down. He looked completely taken aback.

"Ms. Blanchard?" He asked, his tone confused. "What..."

"Oh, good. You remember me." She shrugged, offering a small smile. "I was terribly rude to you earlier. Would you like a ride back to where you're staying? You look cold and..." She nodded toward the hand he pulled tight into his chest. If his cheeks weren't already red from the cold wind, she would've sworn he was blushing.

When he climbed in the passenger seat, uttering excuses, telling her she really didn't have to-he settled in all the same. "You know," He began. "You really weren't rude. I was a stranger."

"Well, true. But you're not now. And you weren't really a stranger." She smiled a bit more. "Henry told me about you a bit. Says you're here to save the day."

This time it was definitely a blush. "Oh god, did he now? Emma mentioned something along those lines." He smiled softly, shaking his head. "These old bones, probably not much in the way of saving anything."

"You're not that old." She replied somewhat quickly, then ducked her head, embarrassed before shaking it. "You're staying at Granny's?"

"I am." He replied smoothly.

"What were you doing out by yourself in the cold like that?"

His face darkened. "The Mayor wanted to have a chat. Get to know the visitors in town."

"Oh." She replied, stopping the car as she pulled up to a stop sign. A little more than mile to go to the bed and breakfast. The mayor was someone she had never gotten along with. It always seemed as if Regina was always a bit off with her; she swore she could feel a glare being directed her way, a comment made that seemed passive aggressive and cruel. She couldn't figure out quite why, so she really just avoided her at all costs. "Yes, well. That's Regina."

He snorted, as if he knew exactly what Regina was like, which Mary found odd as he was still new to town. He shook his head. "I really shouldn't let her get to me. But she is so infuriating, and arrogant. The way she speaks, as if..." He stopped, cutting himself off as he took a deep breath. "I apologize, this is rude of me. My...my wife always said I needed to reign in my temper, especially when it came to those we disliked strongly."

It threw her for a loop as her chest tightened at the mention of a wife. Thank God they were at the bed and breakfast. She pulled up to the curb, putting the car in park. "Well, it sounds like she knows you well. I would expect someone to, after so much time together."

He looked at her then, raising his eyes to study her face. After a few silent moments, he smiled softly. "She did. She...hasn't been in our lives for a very long time."

Mary felt like kicking herself. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't..."

"It's alright, it's okay." He even chuckled. "I brought it up, and I shouldn't have. I need to get going, but thank you for the ride."

"You're very welcome." She smiled back. She was a little disappointed, she found, as he climbed out of the seat an seemed to make his way toward the front of Granny's yard.

But then he stopped, he hesitated before closing the door and he turned, ducking his head back into the passenger side. "Ms. Blanchard...would you like to grab coffee sometime?"

She didn't know what to do. Her eyes flew open in shock, her breath catching in her throat and after a few gaping moments in which his face went a bit pale, she managed to sputter something out. "Mr. Shepherd, I don't really think..."

He laughed then, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening as his smiled widened. "As friends, Ms. Blanchard. You're the first person in Storybrooke to go out of their way for me-except for Granny and Ruby so far-and I'd like to repay you. Maybe, become friends. Would you like that, Ms. Blanchard?"

He stared at her, never breaking eye contact and she felt as if she were weightless. She managed a small chuckle and dipped her head, working to say something that made sense-although none of this did. He was old; he was old enough to be her father, and yet her she was, mooning over him like schoolgirl with a crush.

In her defense, he was very handsome, even for his age.

"Ms. Blanchard?"

His voice caused her to look up at him once more. "Mary. Please call me Mary. And yes. I'd love to grab coffee sometime."

"How's about Wednesday?" He asked. "After you get done with school. Around 8 or 9?"

She smiled. "That sounds nice. I will see you at Granny's."

He smile broadened. "All right then. You have a good night...Mary."

The ride back to her apartment was short, but it seemed like it took no time at all. Her head was swimming. She'd had dates before with some of the men in Storybrooke, but none of them had ever gone anywhere. And the prospect of them had never made her feel this way before.

"It's not a date." She whispered to herself, shaking her head as she turned off her car and headed inside. It was just that; just a cup of coffee with a new acquaintance, a newcomer whom hoped to make himself some friends in a strange new place.

It was nothing like that. He had been clear about it, she had been clear about it. It was nothing like that.

The fast pace of her heart was just from climbing the stairs.

* * *

AN: Emma is going to be a bit different with Henry in this story than in the show; not because her capacity to love Henry is any less, because I believe she does have that. But she's grown up with her dad; she's grown up with a family. She doesn't need it, or yearn for it as the Emma in the show does. As far as she's concerned, Henry is bringing up these issues that are the only thing that has ever harmed her and her father's relationship, so she's sensitive to that. To her, Henry has a parent though, while possibly a little absent, still cares for him and provides for him. So the relationship is probably going to be less of a parent-child one, like the show has, and more of a friend one with him, as I'm not super crazy with the adoption/birthmom storyline the show so easily takes either.


	7. Keep My Heart Slow

AN: So, I could make excuses for the wait, but I'm just going to apologize profusely, make no promises and beg forgiveness. Also, just to let everyone know, I know some may not be a big fan of this decision, but I have changed James, to David, because I A) keep typing David instead of James and B) I hate James in the show cause he was a douchebag. So. David it is :) I hope there is little confusion. ONWARD.

* * *

"What are you reading?"

Henry was pulled from his reading as he looked up at the source of the voice to find a classmate peering down at him. He racked his brain; there weren't too many kids here that talked with him. He was different, and unplanned, and not a piece of the world they had been programmed to believe was their every day life. While they were cordial, they didn't remember who he was from day to day.

It resulted in a childhood that was rather lonely.

He smiled brightly, used to hello's and how are you's, but never an actual question. He fought a frown at the thought, not wanting to discourage her.

In fact, the past few days had been different; Joey Blue had asked him to play baseball during recess twice, saying he'd been good at it the day before. And Mary Agneau had traded him her cookies for the snack cakes his mom packed for him because she remembered...

The realization made him cold at first, but he warmed at the thought. _Emma_. Emma had come, the clock had started back up!

They were remembering him!

"Hi...Paige." That was it! She smiled at the recognition. "Do you..do you want to read?"

"Sure!" Her smile widened as she scooted in close to him, peering over the page. "Is this a fairytale? It looks like one of the old Grimm books my mom used to read to me."

"Yeah, but they're a little different than the traditional ones." He felt his chest puff up a bit as he let his know how make him feel like he was some sort of expert on them, but he would never say it to Paige. Not yet at least, not when he still knew so little and things had just begun.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, take this one. The Mad Hatter," He flipped a few pages, the illustration popping out to show a crazed man in a funny hat, his eyes crossed. "The normal story is about Alice, but this guy, he's a realm jumper. He has a daughter, named Grace, and he and the Evil Queen know each other but..." He licked his lips, shrugging. "I don't think he's a bad guy."

He flipped through a few other ones-Cinderella, and Tom Thumb, and Red Riding Hood. He settled on the story of Snow White and her Prince, to the part where she is awakened with a kiss.

"That's my favorite part," She commented with a soft smile, her fingers tracing the page.

He grinned back. "_That_ is only the beginning."

"What are you two doing?"

The children raised their heads at the question, and Henry waved as Emma neared them. She grinned down at the pair, waving back as her gaze darted between the two. Henry spoke first.

"Emma, this is Paige. She is Ms. Blanchard's class with me."

"Hi Paige, I'm Emma." She stuck her hand out for the girl to take and Paige stood as she did, shrugging her pack onto her shoulders.

"I gotta get going. Thanks for showing me your book, Henry!" She took off with a wave, jogging over to a gaggle of girls standing near the front doors of the school. School was just out for the day, and he was waiting for his mom who was, as usual, late; she was the mayor, after all, and her duties sometimes made time slip away from her. He closed the book, squinting in the sun as he looked up at Emma.

"She your girlfriend?"

Henry frowned, a mix of embarrassment and disgust on his face. "Ew, no! She's just a friend." He scooted so Emma could sit and closed the book on his lap. "She wanted to see some of the stories."

Emma face fell a bit at the mention of the book. "Yeah, Henry, that's...actually, kind of what I wanted to talk to you about." She put her hand over the book, and looked him directly in the eye. "I wanted to apologize for yelling at you yesterday. I was...upset, about what you said. About my mom. It was really not cool of me to take that out on you. Okay?"

He nodded. "It's okay. I understand...the hero never believes at the beginning. What kind of story would that be?"

She was silent for a moment, but scoffed and shook her head. "Sure, kid. Let's go with that."

They smiled at each other, but the quiet moment was again interrupted by a soft voice from a few feet in front of them. "Henry? Is everything alright?"

Mary Margaret Blanchard approached, a tentative smile on her face. She knew that Mayor Mills often ran behind, so she tried to keep an eye on him a little more than her other kids. She assumed this woman was David Shepherd's daughter, but she wanted to be sure; Henry was always so sad, so lonely, and she had to admit, she doted on him a bit. She wanted to make sure that there wasn't anything going on that would put him in the way of danger.

Emma seemed to understand. She stood quickly, sliding her hands down her thighs before offering a hand. "Hi, I'm...a friend of Henry's. Emma  
Shepherd."

"Yes, I expected. He's talked about you a little recently, but I wanted to make sure." The teacher smiled warmly. She stared at the woman, seemingly transfixed by her presence. When Emma shifted under the focus, Mary felt her neck grow warm, snapping from her reverie. She switched her attention back to the younger boy, all the while still shooting quick glances at Emma. "Your mom on her way Henry, or did you want me to drop you off?"

"She probably got caught up with work. I can just walk..."

"I could do it," Emma offered quickly, shrugging. "I mean, the Inn is on the way, I don't mind. I've been wanting to meet your mom anyway, make sure this whole...thing, is okay with her."

His expression dropped, eyebrows shooting up in alarm. "I...I don't know if that's the best thing..."

"Emma's right, Henry." His teacher gently chastened. "It's not right to keep this from her." Mary Margaret smiled at the other woman. "I think I met your dad yesterday...I saw him walking, he'd hurt his hand or something and I gave him a ride back to where you guys were staying."

It was a sort of explanation offered, to let Emma know that she understood the situation that she was in, but Emma was taken aback by how forthright she was. The teacher was hesitant to add that he had been around the school; there was something about the way he had hung back near the outskirts of the playground, or maybe just the sheepish look he had when he was caught. She didn't want to cause trouble and so she left it at that.

"You just...offered a complete stranger a ride to his hotel?"

"He looked lost," She explained softly, her cheeks coloring. Her eyes found the ground. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything..."

"No, no, it's okay." But her questioning glance didn't waver. She stood back a few feet, urging Henry to his feet. "We should get going though. I'd hate to leave with him, and then have her show up."

"I wouldn't be too concerned. If she's not here by now, she generally is really swamped and he either walks or I take him." She smiled at the boy. "Send her my regards, Henry."

"It was nice to meet you." Emma supplied quickly, smiling once more. "I didn't mean anything by that, it just struck me as...off. But everyone else in this town has been so welcoming it shouldn't surprise me. I guess I'll see you around?"

"Probably, since..." She bit her lip. "Since you're growing close with Henry and all."

It was weird, how she seemed to hesitate, and though Emma had noticed, she didn't ask again. She nodded to the woman, placing a hand on the boys backpack and leading him toward the car. When they arrived at the large Manor on the hill, they saw that her car was out front, and Emma smiled, happy to have the opportunity to finally introduce herself. Henry tried to convince her to stay in the car.

"You don't really need to do this. My mom pretty much lets me do what I want."

Emma didn't quite buy that. "Yeeahhhh, but," She shook her head. "I don't feel real kosher about this, kid. I want to make sure she doesn't find out that her bio mom's kid didn't keep her presence a secret. It may hurt her feelings." _Or make her paranoid_, she thought, which was absolutely not what Emma wanted. Henry seemed like a cool kid; smart-too smart, really-and funny, and imaginative. But she had no intentions here of taking him away from his real mother, the woman who had raised him, and Emma wanted to make it perfectly clear to her that that was the case. And she didn't want the poor woman to hear it second hand. This was her mess, and she was going to make sure she contained it.

Henry led her in the home and threw his backpack at the foot of the large foyer opening, a beautiful glass chandalier donning the middle of the room. Emma gaped for a few moments as Henry hollered for his mother. After a few moments, the sharp click of heels signaled her approach.

"Henry, oh my God, I am so sorry, I was caught up in..." The woman stopped short of her son, her gaze locking on the stranger in front of her. "Oh. Hello. And you are?"

Emma immediately regretted the decision. She was suddenly discomforted, and felt defensive. She flustered a little, shuffling from one foot to the other before settling, offering a tight smile. "I...uh. I'm Emma. Emma Shepherd. I wanted to bring Henry home."

"His _teacher_ usually does that if I am unable to be there. Is Ms. Blanchard in the practice of now letting complete strangers take children from the school without parental consent?"

Emma couldn't completely blame her. She was a stranger, but she didn't want the teacher to be in trouble for this decision. "No, I uh...well, Henry said he thought it would be okay?"

Okay, so those weren't his exact words. Regardless, he seemed to understand the intent of the statement and nodded quickly. "Yeah, Mom, I didn't think it'd be a big deal. And I wanted to get right home, I figured you might get mad, and I know you're really busy."

The mayor's frigid expression thawed. "Oh, Henry...I'm so sorry. I'm only mad at myself, there's no excuse for this." The coolness returned when she turned back to Emma. "Thank you for bringing him home. I assure you that it won't need to happen again. Let me see you out."

"Actually, I was hoping I could speak with you for a minute. In private."

If Regina was surprised by the request, she didn't let it show. Instead, she patted Henry on the head before planting a kiss there, telling him to wash up for supper. She excused herself for a moment, begging off to shove a frozen lasagna in the oven before meeting Emma in her study where she worked. Once inside, she closed the door behind her and insisted Emma sit.

"I'd kind of, rather stand."

Regina shrugged. "Suit yourself." She settled behind her desk. "What is it that you would like to discuss, Ms. Shepherd?"

Emma brow wrinkled, trying to figure out the best way to go about this. She pursed her lips, fumbling with her hands as she searched for what to say. "Ms. Mills, I understand your son is adopted."

It wasn't a question, and Regina stilled in her chair; why this woman would be bringing up the nature in which Henry was a member of her family, she had no idea, but she certainly wasn't pleased about it. She offered a wide smile, crossing her arms. "That is correct. What has that to do with you?"

Emma's cheeks burned. "Well, it seems...I mean, it's crazy, and weird but," She bit her lip, trying to figure out what to say. Regina sighed impatiently, as she was not a fan of people who wasted her time.

"Ms. Shepherd, do you actually have something to discuss with me?"

The condescending tone made Emma bristle. She squared her shoulders, deciding to take the blunt route. "Ms. Mills, apparently, I am Henry's  
biological...person."

If the question of Henry being adopted threw Regina off, this little revelation absolutely knocked her sideways. She was proficient in reacting  
measuredly, though, so she just stared for a moment. Emma continued.

"This wasn't planned, I assure you. It just...I mean, I guess he's done some research, but he approached me when we were in town, and I wouldn't have believed it, but he had all my personal information..."

"Do you really expect me to believe that?" Regina hissed, and the cordial, professional Mayor was gone. Emma's eyes widened at the now all out hostile front the woman took.

"I...don't blame you for not, but it's the truth. And I promise, Mayor Mills, I am not...I don't want to intrude. As soon as our car is fixed, we will be out of here and we won't bother you again, but I think Henry..." She softened at the thought of him.

"You will stay away from my son." Regina snapped, rising from her desk.

"...Henry sought me out." Emma explained softly.

"Henry is a child. You are an adult."

"I just wanted you to know. I didn't want you to find out differently and think something was going on behind your back."

"Even though it evidently was." She replied sharply. Still, the woman seemed genuine, and although Regina's instinct was always to defend what she felt was hers, she knew she couldn't react that way she truly wanted to. Her gaze swept over a basket of apples near her bookcase before landing again on the newcomer. "I appreciate your honesty, and coming to me, when Henry didn't. I cannot say that I am not hurt."

"I really don't want to cause trouble."

"Did you think I would be pleased?"

Emma took the sardonic tone in stride. "I think, Mayor Mills, with all due respect...I think Henry is just kind of having trouble right now with  
something. I mean, he has that book of fairy tales and I think he's kind of using it to relate, and it's just..."

"Oh, you think you know how Henry is _feeling_? Because you've known him so long?" She rolled her eyes. "What book are you talking about?"

"The fairy tales." She stated plainly, but when it didn't seem to register, she continued. "It's a bit unorthodox, I'll admit. Snow White, Cinderella, Red Riding Hood..." She shrugged. "I don't know. He seems to have a very active imagination. I think that if you just talked to him..."

"As much as I appreciate receiving parenting advice from a woman who has no children and has known my son for a millisecond, I will have to again insist you take your leave, Ms. Shepherd." The smile that blossomed was obviously forced, and the hidden message was not lost on Emma. She stopped speaking, and nodded.

"Of course. Thank you for your time, Madame Mayor."

She walked the younger woman to the door. "I do truly appreciate you stopping by, though. You have opened my eyes; i will need to be speaking with my son regarding some of his after school activities. I guess I've been a little too lenient with his freedoms."

"Please, don't be too hard on him, he's just a kid."

"If I wanted your input, Ms. Shepherd, I would've requested it." The forced, warning of a smile returned. "I do hope you and your father enjoy the remainder of your stay in Storybrooke. I hope you don't take it the wrong way when I say I truly hope you get your affairs worked out soon, though."

Emma was pretty sure there was no wrong way to take it. With an awkward nod, she turned and began her walk back to the car.

Regina wasted no time. She grabbed Henry's rucksack from by the stairs and emptied it quickly, grabbing the book and returning to her study. The boy was still in the shower, it sounded, so she settled in with a glass of wine and began to flip the pages. Words jumped back at her, over and over, clearly addressing details of their time in the Enchanted Forest. The cold feeling from a few days before when she had realized the clock had started returned in her belly.

She would be having a discussion with her son soon, it seemed, and she would advise Dr. Hopper to speak with him about it as well. THis was dangerous. While Ms. Shepherd was oblivious to the truth behind her son's perception, her father definitely would not be; if she had any doubt before that he was truly ignorant of the citizens of Storybrooke's true personas, it was extinguished now. Emma was certainly not prepared, but her Charming father would be planning something, she knew. She had to be more aggressive, more proactive.

She was going to have to pay Mr. Gold another visit.

* * *

"So I hear you've been making new friends."

David forehead wrinkled, confused at the playfully accusing tone the conversation had fallen into. They were meeting for a quick, early dinner; Ms. Blanchard would be meeting him in a couple of hours for that coffee date-well, not _date_, this wasn't a date.

He figured if he kept telling himself that, he would eventually be convinced.

But he didn't want to run late. And he wasn't sure he wanted Emma to know; not yet.

"I've...made a few friends. As have you. Granny and Ruby are very nice. The Sheriff. And the Mechanic."

"The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker..." She drawled, stealing a french fry from her plate with a comedic raise of her brow. "That's not exactly what I meant. I uh...I met Henry's teacher this afternoon when I picked him up. A Ms. Blanchard. Said you two had met. That she'd given you a ride home."

_Oh boy_. "Oh, yeah...yeah, she was a teacher. She was...she was nice." He pursed his lips. "You're not...mad, are you?"

"Why would I be mad about it?"

"I mean, it's only coffee later tonight, but I figured you'd have something else you could do." He shrugged. "I could cancel though, if you don't want to be by yourself..."

Emma sat straight up, frowning, and he realized quickly that she had no idea what he was talking about. He could've slapped himself. "Waiiiit, wait, wait. You're going _out_ with the teacher?" His daughter's tone was skeptical. "I know I'm going to regret even asking this, but this doesn't have anything to do with Henry believing that she's Snow White, from the book does it?" She lowered her voice before continuing, not wanting the other patrons in the diner to hear their conversation. "You're not having one of those episodes again, are you? I thought you put that behind you a long time ago."

Back when they had their falling out, is what she meant.

It had been a couple days since the run in with Regina and her footman, so David had done what he could to lay low. He'd hung around the diner, chatting with the stranger!friends (as he had come to know them in his head) for hours, playing darts with Graham or complimenting Granny and making her blush. The warmth that had seemed to envelop him since he had arrived her only intensified, and suddenly a world that for so long had seemed foreign and cold began to thaw.

"We're not going out. We're having coffee." He reiterated, insistent. "Besides, I have no idea what you're talking about. I had no idea Henry had any such idea." It was actually the truth, too. Although Henry had mentioned the book...even looked up at him in a most crooked way, as if he were trying to resolve him with the character in his book, that Jim Shepherd just be the elder version of Prince Charming...he had not specifically identified his teacher as Snow White. He had to keep himself from smiling though; the kid was good.

She rolled her eyes. "You're a horrible liar." She said snidely, scooting from the booth to storm from the diner. He followed suite quickly, throwing a twenty on the table to cover their food as he caught her before she got rounded the corner heading toward the B & B.

"Why can't you just believe I want to be friends with someone? I'm twice her age, Emma."

"Because when I was a kid, you thought we were fairytale characters." She shook her head, bringing her hands to her ears. "I mean, I just said it out loud and I still can't believe it, that's how ridiculous it sounds. So now, there's this kid..."

"Your kid."

"This kid." She repeated, glaring at him. "And he's trying to get me to believe exactly that and you just happen to ask out the woman he thinks is Snow White."

"I already told you, I had no such idea about that. I've barely even spoken to Henry."

_Uh oh._ Her eyes narrowed.

"You _what_?"

He held his hands up, palms toward her. "I may have went down to the school."

Emma spun on her heel, fuming as she stormed away with a growl. He called after her, following just a bit behind, but she waved her hand back at him. "No. No, we are fighting. This is a fight, I asked you not to go near him until I got this all worked out!" She shook her head. "I mean, I just introduced myself to his mom, and lets just say, she didn't take the whole birth mom thing well. I'd have liked to deal with her before complicating this even more!"

"You spoke with Regina?!" He hissed, leaning in. He regretted it almost immediately, as he knew there was an urgency, an aire of scolding, to his tone. Emma's eyes widened as she recognized a familiarity in his words; _Regina_. Not the Mayor. And the way that he said it...

David fought to keep his expression placid. He did not succeed.

"You didn't." Emma replied harshly. "Dad, what the hell about stay out of this did you not understand!"

"In my defense, Regina asked me to her office. She wanted to get to know the tourists. And we didn't even talk about Henry, or you." He shook his head. "Emma, I don't think that was a good idea..."

She couldn't understand why he was alarmed, or why suddenly his firm grip had found her arm. Either way, she shrugged him off. "It's not right to go around, talking to Henry behind her back."

"Emma, you do not know this woman. She could be dangerous, what were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that, hey, I gave up this kid years ago and his legal parent may have a problem with me being around him. And what do you mean dangerous? What is she going to do, besides oh, I don't know, throw me in jail for creeping around her 10 year old son without her knowledge?"

He didn't really want to think of what Regina was capable of in this situation, so he just shook his head. "Emma, I just worry. You don't want to mess with the wrong people..."

"I was just hoping we could get out of here with as little drama as possible, okay? And I worry that you and this teacher..." She shrugged. "I worry about you, Dad. Don't get mad at me for that. I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I thought you liked it here?"

"I do. But it's not home. It's not like we're staying here, Dad." She half-laughed when she said it, then paused, waiting for a response. When one didn't come, she gaped. "You can't possibly even be suggesting..."

"Of course not!" He blustered, stepping back to rest his hands on his hips, which she took for what she knew it was; an oncoming end to the  
conversation. "I just don't understand why you seem so upset, it's nothing serious."

"I'm not upset, I just could see this bringing up stuff..." She trailed off as she watched the police cruiser come around the corner and slow to the curb. The window rolled down to reveal the Sheriff, who greeted the pair with a smile and a bit of concern. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, Graham, we're fine. Just a...a bit of a disagreement, but it's okay." She reassured, rolling her eyes. "I was just heading back to the room. Dad here has plans for this evening."

Her tone earned her a reproachful look, but she shrugged it off. If the Sheriff noticed, he didn't react, and David was sure he didn't notice him at all, with how he was looking at Emma.

"I just wanted to check. Seemed like a bit of an argument..." He shook his head as he trailed off. "Never mind, happy to see everything is well.  
Nothing I can do for you folks?"

"We're fine now Officer, thank you." David supplied. Graham nodded, looking towards Emma.

"Okay, well, I'll see you Friday then." He offered with a smile. She smiled back, and the back of her neck began to burn. As he pulled away, she  
squeezed her eyes shut; she could already feel her father's stare at her back.

"Don't start." She growled.

"Friday night, huh?" He asked, though his tone was playful. "So you can make friends, but your old man can't?"

"I'm going back to my room." She began to stalk off. "Enjoy your _date_!" The clipped tone suggested her well-wish was anything but.

"It's not a date." He called back, but as he watched her go, he settled where he stood. He tried to ignore the panic overtaking him, the way his heart seemed to hit his ribs with surprising force. He decided to follow his daughter's lead and head back to the room. A shower and an hour of reading would calm him down much more than just sitting around the diner for three hours.

* * *

He was waiting for her when she arrived, 8 pm on the dot. She had a thin scarf around her neck, and a hat on, a light jacket for the fall night, but underneath, a pretty blouse and a blue skirt. His heart jumped.

_It's not a date._

He didn't know who he was trying to fool. It wasn't as if he hadn't dressed nicely for the night; or at least as nicely as he could, with what they  
had brought on their trip. And he had to remind himself, he was almost 30 years older than her now. Not that that was an unheard of pairing in their world, but it wasn't exactly the most ideal of situations. He just knew, regardless of that, that he needed to be near her.

She smiled as she saw him, and it seemed-although he could've completely imagined it-a spring was in her step as she moved forward. She sat down with a breathy hello, unraveling her scarf and setting it next to her on the bench. She smiled as she peered down at the table, pleasantly surprised to see a cup of hot cocoa awaiting her, whipped cream and cinnamon garnish included.

"Ruby, thank you for remembering." She smiled at the waitress as she passed by. Ruby returned a wolfish grin.

"That wasn't me, hon." She nodded at the man across from her. David turned pink, ducking his head.

"Lucky hunch." He explained softly, not looking at her. "My daughter loves it so I figured i'd try...women love chocolate, right?"

Mary was flustered, but she composed herself well. "A stereotype, but in my case, very true." She dipped a finger in the whipped cream, licking it off with a close of her eyes and a content sigh. "The cinnamon's a surprise though."

"Like I said," He looked up with a shrug and a smile. "Lucky hunch."

For not knowing one another and they great age difference between them, the conversation moved swiftly. He asked about her students, what she liked about the town, about friends. And as she spoke, he noted each time, the answers were vague and empty; enough to make sense but nothing that truly seemed to be real. It was painful to see, really; lives being half lived, seemingly on the edge of something that could be wonderful but missing that last piece to make it right.

"And you, Mr. Shepherd? What about your farm? And your daughter?"

Her hands cupped the cocoa, the question innocent enough to her own mind as she smiled across at him. His heart began to race, though; Emma had mentioned the two had met, and now, they would be close to the same age-more likely to be friends than anything else. And while Mary Margaret had gotten this taste of who she was, this was his opportunity to give her an idea about their daughter-so that when Snow awoke, this would be what she remembered.

"A farm," He began softly. "In New York. Nothing great but it pays the bills, puts food on the table. Emma lives with me still, helps me out." His eyes lit up at the thought of her. "We had moved in with the couple who owned the farm when she was just a baby. They kind of took us in, when we had nothing. Became our foster family, basically." He shrugged. "When they passed, they left it to me. It's just us now."

"That's kind of sad."

"Not really. She always kept me busy; lots of energy, adventurous and sweet. Smiley." He smiled. "She's my everything."

Mary couldn't understand why she suddenly felt the urge to cry, why this floaty feeling in her chest had materialized, but she just shook her head with a smile, blinking rapidly. "Well, she sounds lucky, to have such a wonderful guy for her dad."

She blushed as soon as it left her mouth. _Stupid, stupid!_

He ducked his head at the compliment, and suddenly, he didn't want to be in a diner anymore with her, surrounded by familiar strangers who could hear every word. He threw some cash on the tabletop and looked up at her with a curious smile. "You want to go for a walk?"

He let her lead, as they walked down the road, past Gold's shop and toward the forest in the direction of the Toll Bridge. Somehow he knew-had hoped, rather-that she would lead them there and when they settled, the soft churning of the water below, she hung her light jacket on the railing and leaned forward, closing her eyes as she inhaled deeply.

"I love this spot," She began softly. "I love the smell of the woods, and the water, and the sounds of the crickets and birds." She craned her neck to him as she opened her eyes.

"It's peaceful." His voice was gravely, and he was unable to stop staring at her. Gods, he felt like a pervy old man, but he couldn't help it. She was as young and beautiful as she had ever been, and he knew, he knew this wasn't supposed to be a date, but he couldn't help these feelings. The flush of her cheeks, the twinkle that seemed to be in her eyes when she smiled at him gave him hope that she felt the same. He felt a pang of sorrow as he thought for a moment how it would have been wonderful to grow old together; he had no doubt she would be just as beautiful.

"Peaceful...kind of lonely, though." She shrugged, looking back out over the water. "I've always felt like I was supposed to be here. I would feel...like it was right, you know? But that I was just falling short of...something..." She shook her head, ducking it as she leaned forward. "That sounds so stupid..."

"No, it doesn't. I think, sometimes, we all feel like there's something we're missing, something that will make us whole."

She looked back up at him, shifting her feet. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, and he swallowed thickly as she stepped forward; his voice was husky. "Mary..."

She brought her hands up to his face and arched up to place a gentle kiss upon his lips. He gasped for a moment, hesitating briefly before pulling her closer.

_Yes! Yes,_ he thought to himself. _Come back to me..._

She pulled back after a moment, and her face was as pink as the jacket hanging on the rail. He stared at her, waiting impatiently for her reaction. She blinked up at him a few times before she shook her head, mortified. "Oh, my God, Mr. Shepherd, I am so sorry...that was terribly inappropriate of me."

"Mary, it's David, please." He grabbed her hands; a bold move considering her reaction to the kiss, but one he couldn't help. He felt as if he has been socked in the gut, the breath expelled from his lungs, and he wished that it had worked, but it really was of no matter. It still meant that she was in there, somewhere; that the woman he loved was still a part of who Mary Margaret Blanchard was, and maybe if he could just hang with it, she would eventually break free.

Even if not, he didn't think he could stay away.

"Mary, it's alright. I just want to make sure I'm not...I know I'm older than you. But I just...I want to know you. We can be just friends, if this is too weird. But please. Don't run."

His spirits soared as he felt her fingers wrap around his hand. "I wasn't sure..." She shook her head. "Friends. Friends we can do." She smiled widely. "It's so strange, it is. You're so new, and we're so far apart but I cannot help it...I want to know you too."

* * *

He walked her home before heading back to Granny's by himself, trying to stifle the overwhelming feeling of hope that was beginning to grow inside of him. It wasn't a memory, but she did like him...she did feel it too. And even if they were supposed to leave in couple of weeks, maybe they could break the curse before then. Maybe they could take Mary away from this place. Maybe, they could be a family.

Emma would know her mother.

Of course, he rationalized, she wouldn't take well to this. She would be angry, and maybe hurt, but she would finally know the truth. He could make her understand why everything had happened this way.

Her light was off as he headed to his room. The date had made him nostalgic for years gone by, though, and he took out the copy of the room key he had and opened the door softly, so as not to wake her.

Beams of moonlight fell across her face. He had to stifle a laugh; her arm was thrown way up over her head, her mouth open wide as she breathed in and out. She had always been a relatively heavy sleeper, like her mother. He watched her for a few moments, blinking quickly as he felt his eyes moisten.

So much. They had been through so much throughout the years, and there had been so many times he had locked himself away, especially when she had run away, and wished that Snow could be there. Snow would have known what to do. Snow would've taught her how to braid her hair, or dance for her first ball, or how to bake. To paint her nails or do her makeup.

Instead, especially when Ruth had passed, it had fallen on him. And he could not believe it was all over.

He had loved every second of it. But he wished Snow could've been there too.

Maybe, if they could work this out...maybe she could be there for the rest.


End file.
